MaelxCossette Chapter four

Chapter four (Cossette)

    The sight of his retreating back was enough to make me howl with rage.  My teeth were fair set on edge, but I didn’t dare express it – or how soundly my nerves were rattled at that moment…

    I couldn’t have been wrong about what he was…how could I have been!?  No mortal could ever possess the same strength of presence as him – not one!  There was simply no comparison!  Humans don’t just go about poking into one another’s minds!  But how was it, then, that he was out in the middle of the day?  He should have been someplace safe – someplace where he could rest without risking exposure to the sun!  I couldn’t understand it: the sight of a vampire walking in the daylight as if it was nothing.  Part of me suspected that he might have been some manner of half-breed – one of the rumored damphyr, despite whatever laws were in place to guard against that sort of thing.  But all of that pitted against what I just witnessed…well…contradictions seemed to fly every which way.  At least now I had a proper name for the overwrought little lecher.  

    Mael Seraph – King of the Vampires.

    Of course he was.

    I found myself far from impressed by him.  Did he give himself that title?  He must have.  I grew up on tales of the once-great Vampire King, and this grabby little imp whose hands seemed to be so fond of travel just now hardly fit the description of his likeness.  But for the moment, I was prompted to put that off to the side.  So he wished me to dine with him this evening…was that a legitimate request or a poor try at an ill-suited innuendo?  Whatever it was, I had to go see what had become of Carlina.  Tucking my mask under my arm, I hurried inside after her, snagging a butler by his arm once he opened the conservatory doors for me.

    “Lady Carlina,” I breathed.  “Where did she go?”

    “To her room, madam,” the butler replied, a little astonished by my tone.  “Is everything well?”

    “Poor thing’s exhausted, no doubt!” I called back as I trotted off, hoping that would be excuse enough to cover for us.  “She never could keep up with me…”

    By the time I had arrived in Carlina’s bedchamber, she was already at her dressing table, head in her hand, a pleasant, contented smile on her face.  My shoulders slumped, the whole of me deflating.  I was too late.  She was off within her dreams, taken by an imposed sleep.  I hadn’t the ability to wake her, and standard procedures – everything from a gentle nudge to a bucket of snow – wouldn’t have worked.  She would have to wake up on her own in due time.  I groaned and flung my mask onto her bed, ignoring it for the slip of paper as it bounced on the mattress and flipped over the side with a satisfying clatter.  Truth be, I honestly felt like breaking things as I glanced over the directions.  But sadly, I had too much respect for Carlina and her belongings to simply go about smashing porcelain.  North of the Grand Trianon, he had said – the small structure adjacent to the Palace of Versailles.  I glanced at the grandfather clock that stood over in one of the corners.  It was almost 1:00.  I would have enough time to bathe, dress, and be on my way before dark.  So I sighed, pulled a blanket from the chest at the foot of Carlina’s bed, laid it over her, and left for my guest room just as the clock began its chime.  On the way, I waved to a passing maidservant.

    “The blue gown I wore last night,” I inquired.  “Has it already been cleaned and pressed?”

    “I’m afraid not, your Grace,” the maidservant explained, bobbing in an apologetic curtsy.  “But I can tend to it straight away, if you wish!”

    “Please do,” I said, giving her an appreciative smile.  “It would seem I require it once more before I leave…”

    “For what, madam?” the maid asked me.  I forced a smile at her.

    “I’ve been invited to dinner tonight…” I replied.  The maid’s eyes lit up.

    “Oh?” she wondered excitedly.  “If it’s not too bold of me, by whose invitation?”  My lips curled against the false smile, so I pursed them spitefully as I started towards my room at a stride.

    “Someone I have much hope of never seeing again after tonight…” was my answer.




    North of the Grand Trianon – well, just how far north did he actually mean, the damnable wretch?  I swore, this was seeming less like an invitation to dinner and more like some sort of practical joke.  Pushing aside the velvet blind of the carriage window, I peeked out to check the passing scenery.  Nothing had changed, save the light: it was still woodland, but it had gotten darker.  I could hear an owl hooting in the distance against the clopping of hooves and the droning, continuous squeak-rattle-creak of the carriage, something which did much to comfort me.  Life was known to go still where vampires preyed…and signs of local activity assured me that none were out here tonight.  Sitting back, I allowed my thoughts the freedom to wander…and of course, they strayed right into the path of the so-called Vampire King.  

    Oh, yes…I knew of him, now.  

    I had heard many stories of him growing up in my father’s home – stories that, when heard by the ears of an innocent child, were terrifying as well as exhilarating.  My nursemaid, Lillith, was expertly versed in the life of the Vampire King – and in the days when she once served as my bedfellow, she would wrap me in her arms and whisper to me tales of his exploits, delighting in the reactions I would produce.  Indeed, I would curl into her, horrified and delighted by all the things she told me.  She often used him to frighten me into submission whenever my behavior was out of tune with her expectations.  “Don’t muddy your dress, Cossi, or the Vampire King will steal you away tonight,” she would say – and now I rolled my eyes to acknowledge the irony of the present.  But irony or no irony, reconciling the monster I once feared in my childhood to the stranger of last night felt nearly impossible to me.  Lillith often painted him as an angel of death of sorts, with skin as pale and luminous as the moon, a crown of horns atop his head, and the wings of both the fallen and the ascended upon his back.  That is what I always pictured whenever I thought of the Vampire King…not the strange, sapphire-eyed rogue that all but blackmailed me to dance with him at the previous night’s gala.  The contrasts were too stark to see past…and they made me wonder if he truly was as he claimed to be.  After all, the Vampire King was slain many thousands of years ago…and no trace of him exists anywhere in any of the official mortal records…

   …Well…I suppose that’s not entirely valid…certainly not since here I was perfectly aware of the contrary.  Granted, it was only as I grew older did the darker, bloodier stories of the Vampire King come to light for me.  Lillith may have entertained me with hand-me-down anecdotes of him, but it was my father, the late Duke of Forêt en Chêne, who gave me an account of him that was far more horrific than the ones that used to keep me awake deep into the night.

    In the eyes of Lillith and the others, they saw their King as a hero – one that was revered and even adored.  But as my father once told me, not all heroes are equally regarded – and if the Vampire King was indeed a hero among the cursed, then he was also the very picture of evil to human beings.  The earliest of his tales escape me, now, but through my father I was made privy to a time long ago, when the Vampire King was said to have reigned above all others for nearly a millennium, the very shadow of his kingdom reaching to all corners of the world, giving rise to an era of torment for all who were not his kin.  Various words have been used to describe him over the centuries: murderer…butcher…rapist…fiend…warlord…tyrant…the list could easily continue.  How my father came by this knowledge, however, I never rightly knew.  He had a great number of acquaintances among the cursed – one of them must have told him about it.  Nevertheless, it failed to change a simple truth.  Countless lives were lost in the years that bore witness to the Vampire King’s rule, and although the final record of our world’s history was eventually gleaned and thereby cleansed for any and all evidence of it…it makes no difference for those who can still remember.

    For those with eternal lifespans and memories to match, their recollections of those days remain fresh – and whatever wounds they still harbor continue to fester.  I knew that there were mixed feelings at home concerning the Vampire King, and despite whatever peace that managed to keep balance within the Duchy, no one from any of the sects would dare to mention him for fear of starting something that they could not end.  It didn’t matter that no one had so much as seen the King himself for several centuries – evoking even the slightest breath of him was enough to start riots.  It was a painful reminder of how much rage and grief still remained from the dark times…

    But now, there was suddenly someone who claimed to be him.  After all this time, someone announced himself, plainly and simply, as the Vampire King – and more than that, he spoke of a conspiracy involving my King, one of my people, and my land.  Although I hadn’t thought to question it when he first accosted me…how did he know?  More than that, what conspiracy?  To my knowledge, there was none – or rather, not one I didn’t already see, at least.  Yet that matter was hardly any of his business.  What right did he have to make my affairs his own?  Besides…if his sources and his supposed “research” were truly as reliable as he believed them to be, then surely he already knew about the present situation and was therefore merely being a nuisance.  I had to snicker at that, then.  I may be but a lowly mortal Duchess, but the thought of being able to prove the pitiful lecher wrong on something…oh, how that tickled me pink.

    The driver gave a call to the horse to pull up, and instantly I felt the carriage draw to a halt.  Once the cabin stopped its swaying I let myself out, brushing the skirts of my blue gown back into the place before the driver could hop down and lend a hand.  He looked down at me quizzically as I passed him.

    “You wish us to wait for you, your Grace?” he wondered.

    “No, sir,” I told him as I strode ahead.  “As much as I would prefer to avoid tarrying this night, I’m afraid I may be here for a while, yet.  Return to your master’s house and take care on the way there…”

    “You’ll…walk, then, madam?” the driver asked me, somewhat astounded.  I turned back and I gave him a look.

    “I was graced with two legs upon my birth, sir,” I explained patiently.  “Yes, I will walk.”

    “But the distance…!  And the night…!”

    “…Are both nothing to fear, my good sir,” I assured him.  “Now be on your way – I am perfectly well.”

    Without giving him a chance to protest further, I started off once more, my eyes held fast to the hard-packed ground beneath me.  Only when I heard the carriage turn and depart did I at last look up at Lord Seraph’s chateau as it loomed but a few yards before me at the other end of the driveway’s circle.  It hardly looked any different from any other grandly structured country house I’d seen in my life – and how typical of a vampire to pick something that refused to stand out?  It was almost laughable…

    Lifting my skirts, I climbed the outside steps to the chateau’s entrance: a tall, almost foreboding pair of doors guarding the passage to the inside.  Solid iron knockers hung upon each one, both of which were shaped into likeness of dear Lucifer himself, with one face expressing laughter, the other sorrow, the rings swinging freely in either mouth.  I seized one and banged it three times.  A great echo sounded from behind the door, as if the foyer was as open as it was likely deep.  I waited a moment for someone to answer.  No one arrived.  I sighed and resolved to give it a few minutes more.  If no one came by then, I would leave and write the whole affair off as a joke.  Fine.  So a complete stranger could laugh from this day onward into eternity that a Duchess was naïve enough to fall for this petty little ploy.  Good for them.  Almost as soon as this crossed my mind, the door popped open with a deep-throated groan, and I stepped back as it swung in.  A thin, pale, yet handsome face appeared, a pair of ice blue orbs staring at me while doing their level best not to glare.  I recognized him as Lord Seraph’s manservant: a tall, willowy man with short, crisp blonde hair and cold, icily colored eyes.  He made what might charitably be called a smile and he moved to the side.

    “Welcome, madam,” he said with a slight grumble, his arm out to his side, signaling me to come in.  “You are expected.  My master awaits you.”

    “Thank you,” I said quietly, and in I walked.  The manservant closed the door after me and stood at my back.

    “May I take your cape from you, your Grace?” he inquired.

    “Please,” I responded, undoing the clasp at my collarbone as my eyes looked over my current surroundings.  “Thank you.”  Slipping it off, I was surprised at how quickly the manservant snatched it from my hands and moved to hang it away.  He seemed agitated about something, and in that light I was prepared to sympathize with him.  If he didn’t wish me to be here, then he could take comfort in that I certainly didn’t wish to be here, either.  But looking around me now, I felt confused.  Only a few candles were lit to offer some degree of light in the foyer, but despite the dimness, I could still see where I was.  But had I walked into a chateau or a museum just now?  Everywhere I looked, there was a rich display of deep red and purple hues in the foyer’s décor.  Numerous pieces of framed artwork hung arranged upon the walls, with marble statues standing either beneath or alongside them.  The statues themselves I found to be especially remarkable.  The majority of them appeared to be Greek muses – I could recognize the tragic Melpomene among their count immediately.

    Artwork aside, however lovely the examples around me were, I also found a good number of weapons as well.  The collection I saw as showcased throughout the foyer was varied: swords, knives, and daggers of various lengths and models…pikes, spears, and lances of differing styles…axes, morning stars, flails, and others of a similar caliber…was this also an armory?  Of what I could see, some of the pieces were old, and then again some of them were fairly new.  But all of them looked as though they had seen some form of use and wear.  Were these all his?  I supposed that I shouldn’t have been surprised, only...concerned.  Why did he have so many?

    “My master awaits you in the drawing room, your Grace,” broke in the manservant, turning my attention.

    “Of course,” I murmured, allowing the manservant to lead me.  As I moved, I glanced to my right, spying the entrance to the dining room.  Turning to my left, I saw the manservant beside the drawing room’s doorway, his hand directing me in.  He said not a word, but bowed his head as I walked by.  I couldn’t help but notice how his eyes flared at me from under his brow.  It was something that made me feel less than welcome.

    Entering the drawing room, I stopped just a foot within the door.  Lord Seraph was standing before a window, an open pair of glass-paneled doors leading out to a small balcony to his right, the scenery beyond that of a simple garden.  His back was turned to me, the sheer height of his form a dark shadow against the blue wash of the night.  The drawing room had only the moonlight to brighten it…no lamps, no candlesticks, and yet it seemed no less lavish than the foyer outside.  But why so dark, I wondered.

    “Good evening, Duchess,” I heard him say as he continued to face the window.  The tone of his voice made my spine align itself all the straighter as he made a slow half-turn in my direction, his eyes a soft sapphire glow against his near-black form.  I turned my ankles in and bent my knees, lowering myself in a deep, practiced curtsy, my hands clasped before me as my skirts spread in a circle upon the floor, my head bowed in a learned show of regard.

    “Cossette Ancelin Delacroix of Forêt en Chêne, my lord,” I announced, giving myself to him by name.  Perhaps it was time he knew who I was…

    I heard the creak of a floorboard behind me.  It must have been the manservant – I could sense the malcontent of him behind me.  Glancing up, I caught Lord Seraph’s motion for him to go as he turned about to me in full.  By now my eyes had adjusted, and I could make out the finer details of his appearance.  He was clad in a dark green and gold gentleman’s dress frock with wide, heavy cuffs, and a gathering of white lace at either wrist to match the tiered lace cravat at his throat.  His waistcoat was cut from fine black silk, fashioned to be double-breasted.  A thick black cloak swept along the floor from where it clasped together at his shoulders, linked by a fine gold chain across his chest.  His hair, unlike before, was free and loose from this afternoon’s tail, his ebony waves coming to curl and settle upon his neck and back.  Every part of him looked the epitome of nobility…a quality that I had expected only in the most shallow sense – not the presentation he gave before me now.  A smirk-like smile crossed his lips, his eyes settling on me.

    “You managed to find us without trouble, I hope,” he said, and he motioned to a vacant chair to his right, close to the balcony’s entryway.  I rose from my curtsy, eyeing him as I remained right where I was.

    “A warning about the distance would have been appreciated, my lord,” I told him bluntly.  The grin he gave me in response was plenty amused.

    “Aw, giving you too much time to wonder, I suppose,” he speculated, my hands gripping themselves to redirect my temper at such an assumption.  He didn’t seem to notice.  “You are perfectly safe, here,” he told me.  “Would you like a drink?”

    A drink?  Now?  What on earth did he think I was?  A scattered, undisciplined gutter wench who was rarely sober?  I waited before answering him, my eyes drifting to the chair he had prepared for me, only to gaze back at him in suspicion.  Slowly, I stepped over to take my seat, my eyes focused on him and him alone.  He watched me, his eyes bright but otherwise void.  Try as I might, I failed to determine what they might reveal about his thoughts as I sat myself down on the chair’s edge.  They were perfectly unreadable in everyway, like I was hoping to make out the face behind a mask.  Damn.

    “No, thank you,” I replied at last, folding my hands in my lap.  “I do not drink on business.”

    “Business indeed…” remarked the dark lord as he remained on his feet.  “You are playing a dangerous game Duchess – a game that not many have won.  It is not my nature to warn a woman, but I find myself faced with a problem…namely your Duchy and the vampires therein.”

    “There is no problem within my lands, my lord,” I explained, raising my chin to him as if to ward off the claim.  “Leastways none that you of all individuals should be concerned with.”  My eyes slanted at him pointedly.  “…However, I should like to know what has you so grieved that you felt it necessary to waylay me when I already had but one task of valid importance to attend to.”  I paused for a moment, once again trying to look past the sapphire fortifications – no success.  “And for your awareness, my lord,” I added in a chilled voice.  “Meager little games do not frighten me…”

    His expression failed to change, any – he still seemed to be pleasantly entertained, the unscrupulous rakehell.  I swore, I was going to find some way of ripping that look right off of his face – even if it meant another blow to that beautiful visage of his.

    “These games…” he growled suddenly.  “…Should frighten you.  Your vampires…one of them is conspiring against my law and I want to know which one it is.  They are playing with the King of this land and I do not need to remind you how dangerous it could be to have a human man with the power of an immortal either at his side or in his blood.  You know them, see them, and feed them, too, no doubt.”  He gave me an accusing look, then – I must admit I found it quite refreshing.  But more than that, my victory was immediately doubled.  A vampire under my governing conspiring with the King of France?  Oh, it was truly riotous.  Perhaps after tonight the good Lord Seraph will find cause to reevaluate his network.  Coolly, I gave him a small smirk of my own that just radiated smugness.

    “Impossible,” I said, savoring every syllable.

    “Not impossible,” he countered, lifting his own chin as his smile seemed to fade, as if turning bitter.  “My ears are all over and I hear tales, Duchess – many tales.  I want to talk with them myself, smoke the deceiver out so I can punish them accordingly.”  At this, I felt my hackles begin to rise.  How dare he…

    “You will do no such thing, my lord,” I told him, my eyes glinting at him.  “You have no jurisdiction on my land, and I will not tolerate such an affront from you or anyone else.  Your ears may listen to the cracks within a wall, sir – but pray that they do not heed the bark going up the wrong tree...”

    “You are going to deny me to speak with my own blood?” he wondered, as if such an idea had never come to mind before.  He paced over to my chair, coming to my side.  He gazed down at me while I stared back up at him.  He said nothing in those few tense moments of silence between us – not until the soft ringing of a little bell.  The tension broke.  “I believe dinner is ready,” he told me quietly, offering his hand to help me from the chair.  “Perhaps a meal will clear your mind, Duchess…”

    I glanced once at his hand, and then back up at him.  I stood up on my own without his aid, looking him in the eye as I did so.  Pathetic little leech…

    “Be they your blood or not, my lord,” I murmured sternly.  “They have always been wards in the protection of my family – and I intend to uphold that duty to them regardless of who you are and what you say.”  Turning, I showed myself out into the foyer.  It was all I could do to keep from curling my fist and ramming it into one of his eyes.  Had I less hesitation at this point, I probably would not have thought twice about it.

    The dining room was about as poorly lit as the foyer was – but, it all seemed to be in good standing order.  Walking in, I made my way to the table, a white cloth already spread over with two candelabras standing upon its surface.  Beside the chair that I believed was meant for me stood none other than the manservant.  He drew it out as I approached, and as soon as I was seated Lord Seraph proceeded to seat himself, threading his fingers together while his elbows were propped upon the tabletop.  He looked at me from over the top of his knuckles, and again, we stared at one another long and hard.  I was completely still – but he, it seemed, was treating me more like a hunter would a deer within his sights.  I had received similar looks before, and this one here and now did little to unnerve me.  If he thought I would so willingly succumb to him, be it through charm or through fear, then clearly he was in for more than he was prepared for.

    A covered serving tray was placed in front of me, then, courtesy of the manservant before he walked around the table to his master’s side.  The tray wasn’t terribly big – the size indicated that it was quite moderate.  But moderate or not, the smell of whatever was underneath was wonderfully inviting – my interest was suddenly piqued.  A moment later, the manservant placed a sizable glass goblet filled with red fluid before his lord.  It was plain to see just what the goblet contained, but I had no desire to know how it had been acquired for him…

    I lowered my head as the serving tray’s cover was lifted, revealing a roasted bird of some kind with a cream-based sauce surrounded by a selection of stewed vegetables – primarily potatoes and some manner of greens.  It looked decent enough – I was almost embarrassed to concede that my mouth watered a little.  Nevertheless, my composure kept and at the signal granted by my host – namely, a cheeky salute of his glass to me – I lifted the first set of silverware that rested alongside my plate and began to dine.

    We ate in silence, Lord Seraph and I.  There was nothing to say, and to be fair I was more focused on my meal.  I recognized the bird as pigeon, a revered delicacy in France, the skin maintaining a delicate crisp while the meat was meltingly tender – expertly prepared, to say the least.  Thus, it came as a wild boar from left field when my host decided to address me.

    “Tell me of your Duchy…” he requested, and my eyes shot him a look.  My Duchy?  Goodness, what did he want to know of it?  Perhaps he was only trying to make conversation – and doing a slight better job of it than the night before.  He watched me from behind his glass, his eyes cutting clear through as mine dropped back to my plate.  I cut another bit of meat from the tiny bone.

    “My family’s domain sits on the coast north of here,” I told him nonchalantly, cutting the quartered portion in half.  “Only a few miles to the southwest of Calais.  It has always been favored by many individuals of a, shall we say…everlasting nature for its geographical isolation from the rest of the country.  There is only one road in, one road out.  It is therefore safe for them, and we have long welcomed them…”

    I was about to lift the portion to my mouth when I briefly stopped.  Did I just tell him where it was?  After I made it clear I didn’t wish him to come?  I forced myself to take in the meat on my fork and to chew it carefully.  But I was certain he had noticed my pause – I heard him chuckle from the other side of the table.

    “You will have to forgive me, Duchess,” he told me.  “You know very well that your mind is blocked, and when a creature lives solely on stealing thoughts…it’s hard to trust a person you cannot read.  I think you can understand how I feel, knowing my people are away from me and I cannot speak with them.  I would very much like it if you would reconsider my visit…”

    That damned smile of his was back – this time, it was trying to appear sincere.  I failed to be moved by it.  I set my knife and fork down upon my plate, and I looked him over as I leaned back in my chair.  My calculation of him was as careful as I could make it, still determined to see past his eyes and finally be able to glimpse inwards.  Again, I was thwarted.  Enough of this…

    “…The same could said of both of us,” I said to him at last.  “Of being unable to trust.  Surely you didn’t think that all of your invasive attempts of last night went unnoticed, did you?”  He gave me a faint smile.

    “Yes, and to think,” he marveled.  “I was searching for you until you arrived and did not know until your exit that the blue maiden who had struck me across the face was the same Duchess I had come to see.”  He took another sip from his goblet and smiled again.  “I was trying very hard to break into your mind last night,” he confessed, apparently amused by this.  Good God, was everything a joke to him?

    “And why, precisely, were you seeking me out?” I wanted to know.  “If you fear a conspiracy between one of your kin and the King of France, then know that none of the vampires under my care are to be suspected.  My Duchy is independent from the rest of the kingdom, my lord – and all of us rely on that position to keep our covers.  None of the immortals I know would willingly or even knowingly put that at risk.”

    “Then simply allow me to speak with them, only to see if they have information,” he insisted.  “There is obviously a conspirator in our midst – I only wish to draw the rat out.  I will be but a shadow in your Duchy – you will hardly feel my passing.  I also feel that any unexplained deaths in the area might need some looking into, not in your Duchy but outside.”  His eyes gave a bold, heated sweep over my person before narrowing themselves; if I could have pressed further into the back of my chair, I would have.  “If your vampires are not at fault,” he went on.  “That would not matter if the blame was put upon you.”  I flinched.

    “What are you saying?” I asked, my eyes flashing at him as if to convey warning.  Oh, God, did he know…?

    “I am saying that you might come under suspicion whether your vampires are at fault or not,” he explained.  “Let me talk with them.  Perhaps they even know of the whispers I hear.  How can it hurt…?”  He gave me a suggestive grin.  “…Or should I beg you on my knees for entrance…?”

    “Not that, you imbecile!” I snapped defensively, failing to ignore that lewd remark of his or the look that accompanied it.  “The unexplained deaths!  What did you mean by that?  What have you heard?”

    “Oh, that…” he smirked, taking another sip as if his thoughts weren’t at all on the subject we were discussing.  Sweet heaven, I felt like throwing my plate at him for his inattention.  “Women being drained of their blood,” he finally answered, my insides quickly filling up with relief.  “As I said, I would have to know more, but if I could hear an account I could tell you who had committed the crime.  I doubt the monarchy is taking blood these days, so I am left to assume…”

    “No…” I sighed calmly, cutting him short.  “Not on my land.  No bodies of that nature have ever been discovered.”  Almost immediately, I felt that I could breathe easier.  So he didn’t know anything – a pity, in some sense.  Part of me still longed for closure to that end…but what was I thinking, hoping I could find it here?  All the same, I sat myself upright and reached for the left side of my gown’s stomacher, popping open several of the hooks and snaps to reach in.  There was something to be said about making one’s own clothes, and this gown was no exception.  From a pocket that lined the inside of the bodice, I procured a small item: a long slender vial, filled with a dark red liquid.  I brought it with me, just in case.  Holding my stomacher in, I lifted the vial for Lord Seraph to see.  “This is what I was collecting last night,” I explained to him.  “Of course, you already know what it is, yes?”

    “Blood,” he concluded, and he set his glass down on the table before resting back in his chair, once again clasping his hands in front of his face.  “This…is an unsettling development, then,” he observed thoughtfully.  “…Because there have been deaths – well hidden, but deaths all the same.  You know that there is no need to kill to feed…” – he seemed to go off on his own a little bit, his brow knitting ever so slightly – “…and if you are collecting blood then why would a vampire need to seek out victims…?”

    “A fine question,” I allowed, putting the vial away before snapping and hooking the stomacher back into place.  “What I collect are, more or less, emergency rations for the vampires who live under my rule.  They are allowed to hunt in specified towns and villages within the region that have granted them the right to do so.  But in the event that one of them cannot, they come see me and are allowed to take from my stores.”  I leveled my eyes at him on purpose, quietly and upfront.  “The rules are plain,” I told him.  “And I know them about as well as one of your blood would.”

    The look he gave me just then gave me reason enough to pause.  It was strange…as if it was bordering on something.  I couldn’t determine what that was for the life of me.  But it held for a moment – a long, silent, and almost breathless moment.  All I could do was look back…and secretly hope that I appeared firm of presence to him so as to not raise questions in his mind.

    “There are not many humans that would treat us as such,” he said to me.  “I am in your debt in that regard.”  He inclined his head a bit towards my plate, his eyes refusing to break away.  “How is your meal?” he asked.  “I have no idea what food should taste like, so if it is horrid please forgive us…”

    “Er…uh, yes,” I stalled, a little surprised by how polite his inquiry was.  “It’s quite satisfactory, thank you.  Is it pigeon?”

    “Yes,” he replied.  “We researched for you.  I would hate to have you come away without fair treatment, my lady.”  Then his eyes brightened, and in a flash the gentleman was gone – and the blackened little lecher was once more out in the open.  “I heard from my manservant that you turned your carriage away,” he began, my ears detecting a purr from him.  “Did you plan to spend the night?  If so, we have rooms awaiting…”

    I wanted to groan and clap my hand over my eyes.  The hopeful look on his face – childlike, devious, and stained – was enough to make my innards turn.  By now, I was finding his attentions less offensive and just more annoying – but if given a choice between being faced with this and the pull of his mind…the pull I could at least lash out against and cause some amount of damage.  If I were to slap him again I feared it would have little affect on him.  Perhaps he was the sort that enjoyed such treatment…

    Rolling my eyes, I rose from my seat.

    “That will be entirely unnecessary, my lord,” I responded as I stood up.  “I turned the driver away because every now and again I do not wish to be catered to.”  Then I paused for a second, and I eyed him seriously.  “However,” I continued, catching an odd little spark in his irises.  “You may be at liberty to at least walk me out, if you feel that will go some length to making up for your…” – lechery, wretchedness, knavery, foulness – "...behavior."  He lifted an eyebrow at me, his smile as humored as ever but now also simply delighted – an odd change of pace for him, I would imagine.

    “Well, only if it will make up for my behavior,” he smiled.  He stood up from his seat, extending his hand out to the side as he offered me a low bow.  Seeing this, I came away from the table and started for the exit.  I could tell his eyes were following me.  “Would you allow me to walk you home, at least?” he wondered.  “I cannot allow a woman to be out alone in the night.”

    I turned in the doorway with a slight twitch.  Was he a chauvinist as well?  God, I was done with it.

    “I’m afraid that would be too bold of you, sir,” I explained with some restraint as he proceeded towards me.  “It is not required of you, and I am soundly capable of taking care of myself.”  Turning, I walked back out into the foyer with Lord Seraph’s footsteps close behind my own.  Beside the door stood the manservant, my cape already in his hands.  Before I had a chance to take it from him, Lord Seraph had already laid hold of it and was offering it out to me, as if he wanted to place it along my shoulders.  This I could not permit – I took it from him and drew it on myself as the manservant opened the door, a cool late-night breeze billowing inside.  My freedom from this place and this company was so close – but first things first.  Before stepping out, I turned and gave Lord Seraph one final regard.  “Allow me to state it plainly, my lord,” I said quietly, looking him in the eyes.  “After tonight, I have no desire to see you again, and I hope that you will be enough of a gentleman to honor that.  I also hope that you were able to ascertain for yourself that the vampires of my Duchy are innocent, and that you will accept my word for it.  But finally, my lord, know this: vampires are not the only caliber of immortal I protect in my land – and if you are truly who you say you are, then understand that it’s for precisely that reason why you must never visit.  If you see yourself so much in debt to me for the care of your people, then please…do as I ask, and I will consider the debt paid in full.”  I gave him a stiff little nod.  “Thank you, and good evening.”

    With that, I trotted down the steps, making my way across the driveway’s circle and heading for the dark stretch of woodland road that lay before me.  I heard the door close in my wake, and I sighed, pleased at the idea of leaving this whole affair behind me.




    The stars high over my head sparked with life: twinkling, shining, gleaming…they were perhaps the finest of all God’s good work.  It was because of the stars that I could well understand the appeal of living entirely at night: such enchantment could never be seen during the day.  It was a shame, almost.  But for all of that, I couldn’t see myself living in the darkness, not even with the brightness of the moon and night sky to ease it.  I needed my sunlight, my flowers, my children…would these same things be available to me still if the nighttime kept me company?  I had no reason to think so.  So it was that my heart went out to many of the cursed.  Vampires, I felt, were really no different than people.  They had their flaws, they had their faults – and yet, judging solely by the ones I knew, they also had their moments of true humility and grace.  It was through this that my father taught me to see vampires as simply another brand of human being, however afflicted they might be by something that they could not change.  “Love them for them, and accept their curse for what it is,” he would say to me.  “And give both the room to explain.”

    I always have, Papa – I always have.

    I thought about this now as I walked along the road, my arms folded under my cape to keep the chill out.  Early spring nights were always like this, but it never truly bothered me.  There were much colder conditions than this, and I had too much else to think about.  Dinner, for one, and the impression it left with me.  Suffice to say, I had no expectation of this when I left home to collect from the nobility.  Under normal circumstances, I would have been at Carlina’s by this hour of the night, asleep in my bed, having just spent the earlier quarter of the evening with her and her father.  It would have been quiet and unassuming – an occasion spent among friends.  But no.  At present, I found myself trekking back to the Grand Trianon on foot after having dinner with a vampire – one I did not know, and one that I had never even heard of before…and I refuse to count stories of the Vampire King as having “heard” of him.  I still wasn’t convinced that that was his identity.

    Whoever he was, I at least was relieved to have come away from the experience with no injury whatsoever.  The meal had been delicious, and my stomach was rightly contented.  It almost made me feel foolish for the concealed weapon that I carried under my skirts…

    …Until it became apparent that I was hearing nothing from the surrounding woods.

    Nothing.

    I stopped on the road, and I heightened my ears to listen.  There was no sound, no motion, no hint of life to be had in either direction of me.  Left or right, front or back, it made no difference.  The owls had quieted.  The deer had stilled.  The wolves had silenced.  The woods were empty…and I knew then that I had strayed into something that I should have taken more care towards.  

    For the moment, I stayed right where I was.  Vampires that hunted in the countryside usually did so because it meant fewer questions in the event that a body turned up, accidentally or otherwise.  They were the most unruly of the cursed.  If I was in the city, or even just a bit closer to Versailles, the slightest resistance from me upon an attack would have been signal enough for the vampire to move on and find someone else.  That was the rule – one that was more strictly observed than most of the others.  The experienced hunter, therefore, would have taken my stillness to mean that I knew of his presence and would have been wise enough to back away to avoid complications.  So much of this was a game, and the analogy of that didn’t faze me nearly as much as the reality that most country-based hunts didn’t always adhere to the guidelines.  To add this to what Lord Seraph mentioned before about the drained bodies of women…

    Something snapped to my left.

    I turned.

    The woods damn near exploded with movement.

    From the trees, a massive shape barreled towards me, the ground shaking beneath my feet.  A deafening roar woke the forest, and anything that could fly immediately took to the air.  I staggered back, unable to make out what attacked me before diving off to my far right.  I tumbled to the ground at a roll for several feet, hiking back my skirts to expose my thigh and the blade I had strapped to it: a main gauche – a left-handed dagger whose central gut and tip were lined with silver.  I drew it, staying low to the ground as I turned to get a better look at my assailant.  The wretched creature had the telltale features of a vampire: the unblemished white skin, the pointed ears, the brilliant eyes…but something was horribly amiss.  He was a great deal taller and huger than any vampire I knew of, clad in only a torn pair of trousers that hardly seemed to fit him.  Muscles dominated his physique: bunched and bundled and unrefined as if the body had been carelessly hewn together.  His frame was hunched over, as if he was suffering under the weight of his own build.  He had no hair to speak of, and when he opened his mouth to give a cry in my direction I saw his teeth for the first time…and was appalled at how broken and jagged they appeared.

    His voice raised, he lumbered down the road for me, his large talons aimed to pierce.  Crouching, I braced my feet to the ground, my legs winding tight like springs.  Once he was close enough – just close enough! – I bolted forward, twisting to reach out as I passed him, the dagger’s edge slashing hard against the monster’s Achilles tendon, the tissue severing instantly.  Scrambling to my feet, I watched as the assailant buckled unwillingly to one knee, railing loudly against heaven and earth for his misfortune.  Backing away, I felt like damning myself for not packing something bigger – or for wearing this blasted gown.  If I had Rogero with me, it would not have mattered.  I could duel as easily in a dress as I could in leggings.  But the dagger’s reach only went so far, limiting my options.  As the great hulking mass languished with his injury, I looked around me.  This vampire here…something was wrong.  It was attacking without finesse, without any real plan…this was not right.  All vampires had at least some degree of savvy to their tactics – those that did not didn’t last very long on their own.  This one…he was like a newborn in many ways.  Was there a master nearby?  Watching his protégé make a menace of himself?  That had to be it.

    “Where are you!?” I cried, just as the monster picked himself up and tried once more to attack.  He tried to lunge for me, but with one leg now cut and lame, he wasn’t nearly as fast as he could be.  Despite his onslaught, I stepped hurriedly to the side and moved away from him, my pace no faster than a swift jog.  I put as much distance between us as I could along the road before he turned around and started to rush at me again.  It was ridiculous.  I suppose in one sense I could keep this up until it was closer to dawn, simply evading and never having to go on the offense.  But what good would that do?  No.  This had to be resolved now.

    Facing the creature as he closed in, his head held low as if he was a Spanish bull, my body drew itself to a stance.  I afforded him a salute, raising the hilt of the dagger to my eyes before completing my position: elbows up and out, the dagger handled upright as if I had Rogero in my hands.  As the monster neared, I aimed the tip his way, steadying myself until the last second.  The familiar itch of power tingled gently in my fingertips, and a glint of bright green light slid across the dagger’s edge as I gave a charge, whipping the dagger out wide as I passed my opponent.  Steel and silver sliced through white skin, the air around us breaking with a sharp, thunderous crack as the buildup of energy popped in the instant of contact.

    Then I stopped, waiting.

    I heard the monster’s head hit the ground before the rest of its body collapsed a moment later.  I turned, watching as both quickly and quietly broke down into mounds of dust only to swept away on a cleansing wind, soothing the forest around me, allowing the inhabitants of the wilds to calm themselves.  Gripping my dagger, I spun.

    “Answer me!” I exploded.  “WHERE ARE YOU!!?”

    No response – only the rapid beating of wings as some large bird of prey flew off somewhere among the treetops.  If there had been a master nearby, then he was long gone by now.

    Pulling a handkerchief from a pocket in my cape, I wiped the dagger clean of the blood that ran from it, my hands frantic with either adrenaline or the chill – it was beyond me to tell which it truly was.  Once I was through, I dropped the cloth upon the ground and reattached the dagger to my leg before taking off, racing down the road as fast as I could.  I wasn’t about to spend another minute in this place – not if I could do anything to help speed me home.

    “Friends…!  I need your help!”

    Eyes around me awoke and unseen ears pricked up.  I had their attention – they were ready for me.  Closing my eyes, I prepared for the sharp jerk I was about to feel – and suddenly I stepped sideways.  If anyone was watching me, they would have seen me vanish in that moment, with all of my person disappearing from the road, leaving only the echo of my run and the abandoned bloodied handkerchief.  By the same token, if they also had the proper means to follow me, they then would have seen me reemerge some ways away in the gardens behind Carlina’s chateau, appearing ragged, breathless, and halfway ready to spew my dinner.

    There were certain advantages to knowing the Fair Ones.

    Staggering inside after noisily rapping on the conservatory doors for a butler to let me in, I stumbled my way to my room, clawing my cape and gown off before tearing aside my undergarments, all the while making rounds about my chamber to check and lock each window before closing all the drapes.  I relit the candles, turned up the lamps, and stoked the fire in the fireplace to a nice crackling blaze – not so much for the heat but for the light it would give off.  I would get what sleep I could with as many flames flickering as I could allow – but how could I sleep with my head so a-swirl with far too many questions?  What manner of being attacked me tonight?  Why was I even attacked in the first place?  Was that bastard Seraph behind it?  How fitting it seemed, for me to be assaulted on my way home from his chateau after he spent some part of the evening whining and pleading for my permission to come and visit my Duchy to speak with the vampires who lived there.  Oh, how it made my blood boil inside my veins…as if I didn’t have enough plots already against me…

    I would be so glad to leave here first thing in the morning.