Prologue

The wagon made a sudden jerk, waking Anna up. The dizziness from her light slumber didn't clear quickly, and she mumbled quietly whilst trying to stretch in the reduced space available. Then came another bump, more violent than the last one, and she cursed after her head hit wood. The interior was cramped with various boxes, stacked in precarious piles and some old equipment, chest armor and shoulders pads sticking out the mess here and there.

Why did I agree to this, again? She thought, annoyed.

After a mighty yawn, and knowing that sleep would be close to impossible with the way the vehicle bounced around, she gave a quick glance to the exterior through the dirty window of the door. Outside the rattling carriage, the night was submerged in deep darkness, with barely visible hints of moonlight making their way through the obscure skies.

As her eyelids started to feel heavy, suddenly an overwhelming feeling of fearful anticipation descended upon her; an uneasiness that made her wake up completely. Chills ran down her neck and arms as she contemplated, filled with dread, the rapidly passing landscape of black shadows, her pulse quick and erratic. Even though they leaved town as the twilight dawned, a few hours ago, the night was pitch dark, and the road outside was dead silent aside from the ruckus caused by their procession. She should have been outside, riding atop trusty Renan, but the Duke wouldn't have it. The barely visible silhouettes of the tall pine trees were just a blurry of black and deep green, and after a few moments the throbbing in her center stopped, but her eyes where still searching into the void that had seemed to engulf the entire forest. The sensation of foreboding slowly receded, and Anna let go of the white-knuckled grip she didn't realize she had on her cape.

Eventually, as the wagon made its way through the rough roadway and the minutes went on, the strange feeling went away, like the whispering winds of a passing storm. She pulled her cape tight over her shoulder's leather armor while slumping to the side, intent on trying to nap the rest of the way to the Marquis's State.

-ooo-

Crimson Desires

~ooo~

"Had I but died an hour before this chance,

I had liv'd a blessed time, for, from this instance

There's nothing serious in mortality.

All is but toys: renown, and grace, is dead;

The wine of life is drawn…"

Macbeth, Act II, Scene III

~ooo~

Chapter 1

A Strange Encounter

-v-

At a careful pace, she descended through the stone staircase from her private chamber, making her way into the bedroom after a peaceful rest. She was awake now, and there was a pleasant prospect in the very near future.

During the last weeks, the need had been increasing steadily, and Ulan's party should provide her with some very desirable sustenance. She neared the door and ringed a little bell, the sound resonating loudly in the absolute silence that was usual in her residence, signaling the go ahead for her servants to help her prepare for tonight's affair.

Soon enough, a couple maids entered the room, vowing respectfully at their master, and began to move across the room in a deliberate manner, one searching through her fine closet while the others collected the rest of her attire. Very carefully, a one-shoulder gown was laid in front of her.

The servants, silent and efficient, helped with the details of her dressing while she leisurely intertwined her long platinum hair in a single French braid. One of them offered, while attentively looking down, some jewelry she had picked before-hand for late evening events: a silver pin for her dress and a white-gold collar that they quickly secured around her pale neck. The choice was a conscious one, a way of making the fine garment melt around her alabaster skin.

She dismissed the maids as they finished with a subtle wave and, after they left, she settled her gaze in the beautiful twilight that could be seen from the wall windows, partially closed by heavy curtains, the garnet tone of the fabric catching some of the shine from the skies around the borders. And then she waited. The dusk slowly became night, with the last straws of light disappearing into the horizon, turning bright orange into a soothing blueish purple.

With measured and composed steps she leaved the room, eager to arrive at the gala.

-ooo-

A sudden stop and a harsh knock on the door announced the arrival to their destination. The captain of the Duke's Guard, a tall and built-up man in an expensive-looking armor glared at her through the window, checking if she was awake, and then continuing his path, knocking on the other carriages as well.

Noticing they had stopped after, finally, reaching the entrance to Yvren's commoner's plaza, she descended from the uncomfortable carriage with a jump. The driver at the head of their little convoy was discussing something with another man in a black uniform, holding a halberd in his right hand.

Feeling her joints stiff after being cramped in the tiny space inside the cart, she stretched, enjoying the strong smell of humid dirt and the freshness of the night's air filling her lungs.

She then realized she had been sleeping, and her hands grabbed her head to make sure her hair stood in place, meticulously arranged in a single, long ponytail. Fortunately, her usually stubborn locks were still under control. The two men kept arguing about something she couldn't quite catch, and Anna, not wanting to just stand and wait, decided to glance around her, taking in the sight. It had been many seasons since she had visited this part of the kingdom, after all.

Yvren was a little town, south of the Capital, known for its merchant guilds and religious edifications, with Marquis Ulan's State occupying a considerable extension just to the east, in the outskirts of the village. All around the commoner's square were various shops and establishments, with little wooden signs hanging from chains above the doors. Most of the buildings were closed, given the late hour, but some were still lit with life, the muffled sounds of singing and loud chatter reaching her attuned hearing. Some of them she still recognized, and some others seemed brand new.

A loud yell resonated behing her. The driver had finished his talk with the guard and was beginning to lash at the horses, biding them to start moving. She ran towards her ride and quickly climbed aboard, flashing an apologetic smile to the mean-faced driver of her carriage, who simply huffed and proceeded to yank the reins of the horses, commanding them to move.

As the procession restarted their advance, a couple of children started to run alongside the vehicle, laughing loudly and flashing her toothy grins, which Anna responded with her own warm smile from the little window. The vehicle picked up speed and left them behind, but she still heard the concerned parents scolding the little kids from playing close to the convoy, and immediately the redhead's mood worsened, melancholy sullying her heart. She shook her head, trying to clear her mind of the sudden surge of sadness.

They passed through narrow streets, finally reaching the outskirts on the other side of the town city, leaving behind the last humble houses that constituted the exterior boroughs. The cart then entered into the night yet again, crossing a little bridge above a quiet brook. In a close hill, visible across the dark fields surrounding them, was the Marquis's manor, an imposing looking building – even from a distance – right in the middle of a large extension of guarded grounds.

Knowing they were about to arrive, Anna decided to give a last minute check on her equipment. Her bow rested in a little corner of the damned wooden box she was currently trapped in, and she lamented it would stay in there: that kind of visible weapon was prohibited in any event like the one she was headed towards. She palpated in her left boot and let out a small sigh after she felt the hidden knife inside; it always soothed her knowing her sharp dagger was in there. Her brews, stashed in little jars covered by leather, hanged from her belt, and the redhead made a quick mental count of them to make sure they were all in place. Four… five… good, she thought.

The dark cloak hung around her shoulders and neck and the light leather armor – shone for the formal occasions – completed her professional look, even if she never could shake off the idea that her freckles and wild fiery hair somehow broke the illusion she tried to create with her attire. But every thing she carried with her had a purpose, a clearly defined task that could, in some cases, save her life. There were slim to none chances of something dark lurking about on this particular assignment, she knew, especially in a rich and secure place like the one she was headed towards. But then again... that uneasy feeling she got while going on the road... wouldn't hurt to keep an eye open. It was her job, after all. Humming contently, she looked outside, the building in the hill growing each second. The night was still the deep black she saw on the way to Yvren, thick layers of clouds covering the moonlight.

The procession went past the iron gates that guarded the grounds and then, with a rough yank of the lashes, they stopped, finally arriving at Marquis's Ulan State.

Anna descended from the hideous cart and ran towards the Duke, taking her place at his back, to the left of the captain – a sturdy man with a squared jaw and little eyes –. Their group consisted in half a dozen people, plus Weselton: herself, the captain and 4 other guards. The walk towards the manor was through a pebbled path, ascending a very gentle hill that ended where the manor was. As they walked, some of the soldiers walking in front of her shot her some nasty and distrustful glares from above their shoulders.

She was aware that a couple of the Duke's men weren't keen on having a 'bloody witch' among them, and weren't subtle or quiet about their opinions either, but it didn't really bother her, even if they knew nothing of the true implications behind those words, especially to someone in her line of work. If they ever see a real witch, they would end up shitting their pants. It was a shame Kristoff hadn't been able to accompany her; that way at least she would have had someone to talk to, even if only to joke and goof around.

Soon the procession entered the State's yard, passing neatly arranged gardens of a variety of violet and rosy flowers. In the middle of the large terrace in front of the Ulan's Manor was a large bush, shaped in the form a prancing horse. All around her, more and more carriages continued to arrive, and from them descended a myriad of weird looking individuals, most of them wearing expensive suits and big dresses. She noticed that almost none of the noblemen had as many guards as her contractor.

Marquis Ulan, personally, came to receive their little procession as they arrived at the manor's feet, smiling wide at the sight of old Weselton and quickly approached the little man. The nobleman was a nice-looking man, some would say even handsome, despite the grey hair and clearly weak arms; but whatever he had going for him, Anna decided, was lost when he decided to wear one of those outdated suits – this one in red –, with the rounded shoulders and puffy, white sleeves. Even I know how awful those clothes are, she assessed mentally.

Both noblemen exchanged pleasantries with hollow words and big smiles, complimenting each other. The host indicated the steps that led towards the building's doors.

"The party will start shortly, I promise!" he shouted as he waited for some another lady or lord to arrive. The look on Weselton face soured the moment the Marquis left his side, and he snorted with disgust, giving their group a stiff nod, urging them to move on to the luxurious building.

Once inside, they were met at the vestibule by an old seneschal that supported himself with a wooden cane, who humbly gave them indications as to how to arrive to the main hall. As per instructed, only Anna and the captain of the guards were allowed to accompany the Duke to the main hall, which was vastly enlightened by torches, a dozen chandeliers and clusters of candles in the tables. Protocol dictated that they were relegated to the sides, so she and the other man quickly took a place in one of the corners of the room, whilst all of the nobility started to roam across the center, making light chatter and introducing themselves here and there. There are a lot of rich people in here, the redhead noted off-handedly.

After taking her place, the redhead's mind started to wander, distractedly looking at all the people in their fancy clothes and collected smiles. All that… pomposity – in Kristoff's ridiculous words – was, as far as she cared, just empty gestures made by cynical and pampered people. The innumerable rules and little gestures that came with every greeting, and the useless knowledge – that managed to bore her endlessly – of ranks and positions among the nobility, was something she never could wrap her head around. As a Huntress, stuff like that wasn't required for her to succeed. And to succeed was to survive, most of the time.

Fortunately, her job this time was only to accompany the Duke to the gala, be around, mute, during the ball and the party, and keep on the lookout for any unwanted guests or dangerous individuals. And to steal as many chocolatey things as humanly possible, she reflected with a grin.

All in all, a piece of cake. And the pay was good too. Even if the Duke's fame of being cheap preceded him, he seemed to take his own security very seriously, and with good reason, Anna reasoned; the life of the man had not been threatened only once, or twice, and that had been only during the last year, if the rumors were true. Being that greedy sure ends up being expensive, she thought ironically.

She drowsed out for most of the Marquis's welcome speech, only hearing tips and bits of the whole thing. The whole saloon erupted in modest claps when he finished with a bow towards his public. Soon enough, after the host's address, mild sounding music started playing. A waltz, Gerda had taught her years ago, when she was still a child. The nobility started her rituals, requesting dances here and there with courteous bows after the Marquis opened the dance floor himself. The melody's notes hang tight in the air, combining with the sounds of shuffling feet and light conversations.

Anna sighed as she eyed the mountains of truffles and other treats in the table right next to her, knowing full well her hunt for chocolate would have to wait until much later in the party. Close to her, someone caught her eye, and the view that greeted her almost caught her breath.

This blonde woman was truly a sight to behold. She was dressed in a really tight black gown, with a long braid hanging from her right shoulder, the left covered by dark fabric with a silver pin attached to it. Platinum hair, neatly arranged, framed her slim face, her slow movements measured and deliberate. When she turned to reply to a tall, older looking man, Anna realized the dress had a low back, revealing a mesmerizing amount of the woman's skin, going almost all the way to her waist. This lady's skin, especially in her back, had an almost unnatural, ghostly texture that was reminiscent of milk or even of the soft snow in the winter's mornings. But the strangest – and even more fascinating – things were her eyes, glimmering with a deep amber-like quality, contrasting beautifully with the pale, elevated cheekbones. She was, without a doubt, the closest to a perfect embodiment of finesse and composure she had ever seen.

A couple of hostile glances from some ladies at the treat's table snapped Anna out of her reverie, and she had to avert her eyes off the ridiculously attractive lady. She knew it was ill-advised for a commoner to look at a noble like it was something edible, even more so at a high-born lady like that.

So she waited, a couple minutes at least, before she tried to locate the woman again. When she found her, this time closer, she was engaged in conversation with a tanned, young looking lady, dressed in a simple but elegant yellow dress with a knee high slit on the sides and chestnut hair that flowed freely around her shoulders, shiny and immaculate; and yet despite all her charm, she just couldn't compare to the other, taller woman and her divine features, currently lit with a warm yet enticing smile curving her burgundy shaded lips.

The lady in the yellow dress was practically swooning, and the Huntress couldn't blame her. If she had been in her place she would have ended, most likely, a blabbering mess by now... It wouldn't be the first time, she remembered, and winced at the thought.

Anna knew she had always had a soft spot for the blonde ones, and she was endlessly grateful that Gerda and Kai were tolerant towards her affinities; it hadn't been just once that a woman had leaved her room the morning after a guild's drinking party at the inn. The reprimands that followed weren't because she had slept with another woman; they had been because she had done so in the inn's sacred grounds. This is not a cabaret child! Do your business elsewhere... she could remember, clear as day, Gerda's constrained and annoyed tone. But Anna never headed those scorns, and kept bringing woman's with her when the occasion arose, even though it had not happen recently, she realized.

Three or four slow songs later, she recognized to herself that she had to know at least the woman's name, damning her own incessant curiosity in the process. Even if she was obviously out of reach, at least she would be able to have a name to call her in her fantasies, she reasoned, cringing at how pathetic the idea was, but in the end went with anyway, even if only to distract herself a bit. Scanning around her, she saw what she was looking for, and closed the distance with a couple steps. The captain of the Duke's guard was standing with his arms crossed over his chest, seeming to be bored out of his mind – a sentiment Anna could relate to. He didn't notice her, so she gentle tapped him in his armored shoulder.

Surprising him, he looked at her with an eyebrow raised questioningly.

"Hi" Anna chirped with her usual energy. "Say… do you happen to know who she is?" she pointed discreetly to the pale goddess.

The man followed her gesture, his gaze landing at the pair of ladies now chatting casually over some appetizers at a nearby table.

"That's Princess Talia, from the eastern borders." The man responded with a stiff voice, but something about that information just didn't click entirely to the redhead. The captain noticed her troubled expression and added, "You mean the lady in the shiny dress, right?"

"What? No, obviously. I meant the one in the black and red dress, with the large braid", Anna said impatiently. The captain eyes focused in the mentioned woman.

"Oh, her? If I'm not mistaken, she is Lady Elsa Nesfânt, Countess of some place west…" he responded, giving the surname a weird inflection and then pausing briefly, seemingly trying to jog his memory. "I think from the Gheata State. Yeah. I think that's the one."

"Are you sure?" the Huntress asked.

"Kind of? Look girl, you will have to ask the Duke or someone else if you are truly interested," the captain answered, his tone giving away a tinge of annoyance. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms.

Anna nodded, taking the hint, and went back to her corner, letting the name wander around in her mind. Lady Elsa

As the party languished on, her eyes kept wandering towards the pale Countess, who now was sitting at one of the round tables at the sides of the hall, seeping delicately from a glass of wine with the yellow dress brunette at her right, looking up with adoration clear in her pretty face and a hint of attempted seduction.

Anna had a suspicion as to why her attention kept being drawn towards Lady Nesfânt: a likely combination of boredom and frustration, of the bad kind. I need to get laid, she considered while rubbing her eyes, feeling drowsy from boredom. She looked around, trying to resist the urge to search for an empty chair. Deciding against it, she kept leaning against a hard column of stone. The Duke sat a couple meters away, getting drunk out of his mind, laughing and spluttering loudly around him, accompanied by half a dozen other noblemen – amongst them the host – all of them almost equally intoxicated.

Anna was grateful that she wouldn't have to deal with Weselton in the aftermath. Once this whole affair ended, she would return to the carriage and sleep plenty, since her employer would be taken care of by the Marquis personal guard.

In actuality, her job this time around wasn't meant to be hard: she knew the Duke was a superstitious fella and she had been contracted most likely to calm his paranoia. She huffed as the idea came to her, but she would be a fool to turn off easy gold after those last dry months.

The music had stopped quite a bit ago, and the lounge was filled with loud laughs and the distinct 'cling' of cups and glasses being moved around. A couple of fellows, all noblemen, had already retired, and some more were leaving, either alone or in couples. With them leaved their guards and attendants as well, but unluckily for the bored redhead, the Duke had also fame of being a liquor man, and it seemed he upheld high that reputation.

Annoyed at the prospect of having to be there for the rest of the night, she gave a quick glance around the room, already knowing what to look for. The lady of the yellow dress, by now clearly intoxicated if one judged by her erratic giggles and crimson cheeks, was pretty close to Lady Nesfânt, who never seemed to lose a bit of composure. After Anna had snatched another truffle from an unattended table, the platinum blonde leaned onto her companion and whispered something. The latter giggled again, quite flustered, but nodded wildly, earning a condescending look from the taller woman that was quickly concealed with a dazzling smile. After linking their arms, something that surprised the observing woman, they walked across the room, heading for the exit. Anna couldn't do anything but to let out a resigned sigh and an envious look as the pair crossed the open doors, already sensing her insides stir, a sentiment that resembled, somehow, the one she had on the road.

Wait. This wasn't yearning, or envy.

It took her a fraction of a breath to realize that this was a very different kind of gut feeling. Immediately, her senses sharpened, and she followed them with quick steps, never taking her piercing glance off the pair as they made their way through an empty hallway, turning to the left. Something was off. 'Trust your instincts'… her father had said countless times, and it was a mantra she always carried with her. One last glance to make her sure the Duke would be perfectly fine without her, and she went after the Countess and her courting lady.

Following them was easy enough: a lot of noblemen had retired to the chambers the Marquis had supplied for the majority of his guests, so she could just pretend she was some random anonymous bodyguard – which she actually was – as she trailed the couple from a distance. They went deep into the manor, and Anna was starting to worry about encountering some guard who would ask her a lot of uncomfortable questions. However, as she took a turn to the right in a deserted hallway, she saw the pair ascend a circular staircase made of grey stone. When she reached it, she looked up, making sure they had already left it. With careful steps she went up, taking great care to focus on the vague, drunken giggles she could still hear coming from the Princess. It was better this way: she could keep a considerable distance from the pair while still tracking them down. She had to avoid a couple of the Marquis's guards, but she ended up following the women without a hitch to a deserted hallway. The Princess tried to open the door at the end of it, but the Countess did it of her. The knot in her stomach tightened as she saw the couple disappear behind a heavy door.

She knew her stalking skills left much to be desired, but so far it seemed she hadn't been discovered. Intent on finding out what made her instincts go haywire, she approached the door.

A sudden noise halted her advance, and she ducked behind an old and dusty bust standing right in the middle of the hallway.

She waited as the sound came closer and closer, and then she heard a loud hiccup. A couple of guests, drunk and supporting each other, passed through the connecting corridor, slurring unintelligibly. They disappeared from sight, and a loud couple of slams indicated her that they had arrived to their rooms. A quite oppressive silence followed, and Anna, after feeling it was safe to leave her precarious hideout, made her way to the door. Carefully, she placed her ear on the rough wooden surface, but she could not hear a thing. She waited a few seconds, but nothing came. Frustrated, she looked around.

The hallway had a pretty tall ceiling, with old tapestry decorating the grey walls. So far, she was at a dead end. C'mon, think, think… there must be a way inside… For some reason, she felt anxious, as if time was running out. She looked up once again, and noticed something in the right wall. There were tiny windows lined up at the top, and that meant she was in the outer side of the manor. Maybe, if she could reach them, she could find an elevated window or a crevice from the exterior through which she could follow them or at least have a peek into the room. The ominous presentiment she had at the gala was still there, and she knew by now she had already committed to this: she would see it to the end.

The practical problem now was that for her to keep going, she would have to make use of one of her Seals, and the prospect wasn't exactly thrilling. The Huntress considered briefly if it was worth the price; it wouldn't be the first time she misused the power in a goose chase, but ended up choosing to go for it. Hopefully the migraine is not gonna be too severe, she thought darkly. Breathing heavily, she prepared herself.

In a quick sentence, she chanted in the old Tongue for divine favor, and a brief moment later specks of light began dancing above her limbs, rotating around her heels and wrists.

Taking one last look to make sure she was still alone in the corridor, she flexed her hands as a well-known sensation spread through her limbs, the fuzzy sensation of the Blessing cursing through her fingers and feet. She made a tentative jump and smiled at the effective result of the incantation; she faced the long wall, and with a big leap and started to climb rapidly. Her palms and boots did not make contact with the rasp surfaces, but carried increasing momentum that allowed her to leap farther each time. With a couple of well-practiced jumps, she reached the high-up windows, grabbing the ledge, opening it, and then propelling herself upwards, feeling the strong winds from outside lash onto her face as she climbed out.

She was now in the roof on the manor, and she had to make an effort to not squint her eyes because of the harsh gusts. The clouds above her threatened rain, moving heavily across the sky. Steadily, she took a couple of tentative steps forward, her toes not even touching the slippery surface, but she knew the Blessing kept her from falling to her death. Feeling more secure after taking the few first steps, she strolled forward in almost perfect balance – thanks to her incantation, offsetting her natural clumsiness –, searching and keeping an eye to not go beyond the length of the room below. Just a lengths arm away from the edge of the roof, she found something promising: a decorative fractal that also served as a window, made mostly of red and yellow glass. It had little hinges in the middle. Bingo! She cheered. Crouching first and then kneeling on the big ledge, she tried to peek a glance from the colored window, but its glassy texture hindered her efforts.

Her curiosity burned her on the inside by now, and she cursed mentally because of the obstruction.

A second later, movement caught in her peripheral vision and she narrowed her eyes, focusing after seeing a flash of the yellow dress in the middle of the room and, without realizing, she leaned forward, trying to get a clear view. The form of Lady Nesfânt was just a blurry shadow that seemed lo lean towards the woman. Her heart, for a reason unbeknownst to her, skipped a beat. If only a little bit… she said to herself, slowly starting to open the fractal, applying pleasure to the bottom. The hinges turned an inch, and she dipped down her head to take a quick look, feeling her chest's throbbing deep in her ears. Finally she had a clear vision of the chambers. The two women were standing in the middle of the barely lighted room, the snow blonde reclined over the Princess's neck. A steady flow of blood was running down tanned skin and the Countess deep red eyes glimmered in the shadows. Is she biting her…? But that means she is…

Anna's train of thought broke, her head feeling light from a sudden rush of vertigo. Instinctively she tried to grab on to the ledge but it was too late.

Her concentration, shaken by the vision below her, shattered for all of an instant, but it had been enough: her supporting hand ended up slipping in the humid stone, making her plummet towards the room.

-ooo-

Anna knew she fucked up.

The Lady's head turned abruptly at the unexpected sound, eyes shooting open at the surprise arrival. Only her enhanced reflexes saved the falling woman from breaking her legs or spine. Before she hit the ground, the white dancing lights in her limbs glowed more intensely, and she landed softly in a cat-like fashion, looking up at a surreal scene.

The platinum-haired woman – a freaking vampire of all things, thought the stunned Huntress – was a couple of feet away from her, equally paralyzed, holding an unconscious and bloody lady in her arms. A mere second passed in complete silence before a thin frown appeared in the Countess's forehead, her eyes hardening in an enraged glare.

Her survival instincts kicked in and without delay she made a run for the wooden door, still sensing those red eyes in her back, gaining ground quickly thanks to the unbroken Blessing in her ankles. A tiny voice in the back of her head warned she was abandoning the poor Princess, but there was nothing she could do to help the brunette if she wanted to leave and tell the tale. Right now, the priority was to get to safety and, hopefully, rally some help for herself and the noblewoman.

However, just as she extended her arm to grab the handle, a table suddenly crashed against it from the left, obstructing the exit.

What in the… the furniture had moved on its own! Realization dawned on her, and as she spun, her left hand went instinctively for the little jar hanging from her belt, but it was too late. The vampire had closed the distance – in the blink of an eye – and grabbed the panicked redhead's arm; the tact was cold, some part of the Huntress registered, and her Seal broke the instant their bodies made contact with each other, though most of her attention was focused in the eyes of her captor, glistening with that same fire-like quality she seen so far. The woman snorted, pulling Anna's hand away from her potion. Blood still fresh smeared her face and clearly visible fangs, shining weakly in the dim light or the room. The Princess lied on the ground, a red pool forming around her neck and chest, dirtying her hair.

She was almost out of options. Anna cursed mentally. The only thing that kept her alive, she knew, was the curiosity of the vampire that held her in an iron-like grip. The vampire seemed to inspect her, and her heart jumped wildly. There was something undeniable erotic about the whole situation (especially with the way the black dress seemed about to slip from the vampire's snowy shoulder) but the feelings of danger and fear were winning the battle inside her easily. Nonetheless, some stubborn part of her kept noticing these things: the slim figure, clothed in that tight black dress, the blood smeared in her lips and chin, glowing lightly, and those hypnotic eyes. The pale figure standing right in front of her just had this… aura, as if the air around her was charged, magnetic even, but she still was – Anna's mind reminded her – a Vampire, a true and mighty Chosen by Blood, and the Huntress knew she had only one shot to escape.

"Who are you?" asked her captor, but Anna ignored her and the chills she got from icy, soft voice. Praying that her captor would be distracted enough while examining her, the redhead prepared to mentally break her other Seal, knowing she would pay a steep price later from the mental effort, but that was her only chance for that later to exist.

She never got the chance to try.

As she steeled herself both of them established eye contact, and immediately she saw something pass, like a shadow, in the vampire's red, sanguine, orbs; an odd something that felt almost… relatable and came back to her, almost like a reflection. In that brief instant of linked gazes, a mental image of Papa, old and gentle, flashed before her eyes. The vision astonished her, stopping in full her feeble attempt at escaping. Then, surprisingly, the vampire released her, as if Anna's skin suddenly became alit, but… she hadn't even come close to finishing her Seal's incantation.

The Countess looked at her yet again, her expression troubled, this time from a distance.

"Leave." the vampire hissed, looking more confused than angry.

But Anna didn't ran, nor move. She couldn't. She was bewildered at the actions of the woman in front of her. What had just happened?

"I said… leave!" the yell pierced hear ears, making her yank and stumble backwards. A part of her brain – the one in charge of keeping her alive – finally regained strength, making her realize the truly precarious situation she was in.

The vampire's eyes flashed red, and then her mouth contorted in a violent sneer, hissing while showing her inhumanely long blood-stained fangs. All the curious demeanor of the human-like creature in front of her had vanished, replaced by increasingly aggressive gestures and postures. Stumbling backwards, she crashed against the broken table; with haste she removed the obstacle and grabbed the handle of the door. Before she leaved, she cast a last glance at the poor, bleeding woman lying in the floor, and then to the vampire, who seemed ready to pounce at her at the minor mistake. The blonde's gaze was now cold, icy, but beneath it, there was something more, Anna noted as she yanked the door open and fled the room; just visible around the edges of those crimson eyes was a tinge of deep… sadness, barely concealed by rage and aggression.

-ooo-

Elsa didn't take well to interruptions, and least of all during her meal.

She couldn't help but feel impressed at the speed of this woman. Elsa smirked almost imperceptibly as the redhead made a dash for the door, helped by the elemental enchantments she possessed. This woman was Gifted and that, along with the fact she had certainly followed her, made for a very unusual situation; now, she was trying to escape after her spectacular fall.

As the female human reached towards the door, she commanded, without effort, a table that rested against a wall to fly through the air and crash against the entrance. The woman turned, her expression resembling that of an animal surrounded by predators on all sides. Elsa quickly perceived that she had a steel dagger hidden in her boot – she could sense the iron – and from her body emanated some weird and frankly irritating odors, amongst them those of hemlock and salt. And she was cute, she also noted. Her arousal was still present, after all. Maybe… she thought, but then swept aside the idea. First, she would know who, exactly, this strange female was.

Sliding, she caught up with the intruder and, after seizing her, sent her will to see inside her mind.

Nothing. She sent her will once more towards the frozen woman, and still nothing came back. Elsa, maybe for the first time in decades, was surprised, and with good reason. Mind reading had always been one of her more strong skills. Sometimes, she didn't need to touch the humans in question to see inside their minds or their souls: their whole intents and wishes were there for her to see; even their most guarded secrets, if given time, would open up to her psychic inquisitions. But here... it was blank, an emptiness where she heard only herself. By this point, the redhead started to struggle against her grip, and Elsa refocused in her.

She noted, again probably because of her aroused state, a few things: the freckles that framed round cheeks; the loose strands of red hair and the strange tone of her eyes: a deep teal, guarded by long lashes.

As she inhaled the rainy and faintly sweet smell of the redhead, Elsa couldn't help but wrinkle her nose as some fetid essence reached her. The thin human had a sulfur concoction in her! And that little detail gave away much, but certainly not enough. She was not only a Gifted, but also a Huntress. What was she doing in here? Was she after her? If so, she did a pretty bad job at it. Her intuition told her that wasn't the case.

"Who are you?" the Vampire asked, the cold in her voice demanding and unnerving.

The human drew a step backwards, only to clash mildly against the crashed furniture. The blonde started to grow impatient after trying to establish a mental link and failing again. When the redhead attempted to reach for the second time the sulfur jar hidden in her belt, Elsa took hold of her wrist while her other hand went for the waist, pulling the girl closer. Fear was clear in the other woman's eyes, but also a profound spark of resistance. The girl kept trying to break free, and Elsa could've sworn she heard her growl. Why wasn't her telepathy working on this human…? Her eyes made contact…

A shiver. Deep inside her something recoiled, clawing his way to consciousness.

A whisper ran through her…

"Sângele meu…"

The vampire backed off, her mind reeling, heart and soul aching painfully. The other woman eyes had reflected something buried deep in herself, releasing it without warning. She felt intangible, bottomless… pain, unbearable in its strength, tearing at her soul's seams.

What did she do? She inquired mentally. But the weird redhead looked as lost as herself.

Confusion and rage quickly took over as the sensation grew, stubbornly clinging at the edges of her consciousness. She tried to yell, commanding her to flee. And when the human failed to start running, she raged. The human ran. Not once she considered killing of harming the Huntress who had just fled the room. What she wanted was for this this anguish to die, to be buried again. She was now alone. Outside, lightning coursed through the night's sky.

-ooo-

She ran, blindly, until she reached the main hallway that lead towards the gala, the event all but forgotten. As she stopped her mad dash throughout the empty corridors, a surprisingly strong feeling of pity struck her, with a force that almost made her look back and retrace her steps, but the quickly rising realization that the strange event had been actually a death encounter soon clouded the weird, completely illogical feeling. Papa… the memory that she saw moments ago came back, striking directly at her heart. She took another couple steps before she realized she was shaking, her hands trembling uncontrollably. Her vision blurred, too, because her eyes were starting to water.

Oh, god, no, no… the Huntress pleaded as bottled fear she hadn't had time to process surged and swelled below her skin, the familiar and unwelcomed sensation of panic clawing at her lungs and nasty, burning bile rose in her throat. Her gaze became unfocused. She knew what was about to happen.

Breathe, breathe… It wouldn't be the first time. The anxiety kept rising, uncontainable, while she tried to wrap her head around the bizarre events that had just transpired, in the hopes – all but futile – that that knowledge would somehow prevent the panic attack. Breathe… Her Seal had been forcefully dispelled, and that in conjunction with the fear and strangeness of her encounter with… Lady… Elsa…

Her rationality broke. The panic took over, and then Anna went running, looking for the entrance of the manor, her mind reeling in the need for open skies and fresh, cold air. Outdoors, the rain started to fall, quickly picking up strength…