Prologue
The darkness shrouded him, inky blackness serving as a cloak. Not that it mattered, for no one was out this late in the evening. Tonight, the green- eyed vampire stood alone. He scarcely moved, but his senses were alert as he waited for his companions to come. He didn't have long to wait. Another form congealed into being beside him, looking at him with intense cobalt eyes before it spoke.
"Are you ready, Trowa?"
"Of course."
With these words, the two vampires disappeared into the shadows.
Chapter 1
Quatre was inexplicably bored. He'd spent hours at this terrible ball his father had so carefully planned. He'd danced with countless ladies throughout the night, all of which had adored him for his good looks, charming personality, and, of course, the fact that he was heir to the prestigious Winner family. Quatre wasn't interested in any of them, however; to him it was sheer misery. He sighed, blowing stray golden hair out of his face. The ball was finally almost over. Quatre worked his way toward his father on the other side of the room.
"Well, what did you think of it?" his father said when Quatre approached him.
"I thought it was nice," he replied.
"Did you meet anyone?"
"Well... not really."
He could tell his father was disappointed. The entire purpose of these elaborate balls was so Quatre could find a wife, but so far, the search had been unsuccessful.
"What about that Peacecraft girl?"
"Lady Relena?" Quatre shrugged. "She's worth considering, I suppose."
He had danced with Relena Peacecraft twice during the night, and she was by far the most intelligent and diplomatic girl in the room, but she was a total pacifist, which he found quite annoying. After all, fighting must happen for peace to be maintained. Still, if he had to choose, she would probably be the best wife.
"That's the closest to a 'yes' I've heard so far. I look forward to an engagement then, unless you find someone else."
Quatre knew better than to argue.
"Yes, Father. If you don't need me for anything else, I think I'll go walking. It's terribly hot in here."
"I don't want you out there Quatre. It's too dangerous this late at night."
"I'll just be in the gardens. Surely that's safe enough."
"Very well. I'll speak to you in the morning." He turned and left Quatre to himself. The blonde boy sighed and walked out of the hall toward the elaborate gardens. As he paced, he thought about what his father had said. Though the man loved him as much as he could, he was obstinate and would not go back on his word about his only son finding a wife. Maybe it was because he had 29 sisters, but the fact was Quatre really didn't like the presence of women at all. The thought of marrying some strange girl disturbed him.
After walking the gardens for some time, he felt the need to walk the streets. No one will be out this late, anyway, he thought as he opened one of the gates and stepped outside. There was no moon, but the darkness was oddly compelling. Quatre walked farther than he intended, and probably would have kept going, but he began to have a strange feeling. Not bad, exactly, but being naturally empathetic, he knew when to trust his gut, and he knew that someone was nearby watching him. He quickly turned around and went the direction of his house, and was rather surprised when the feeling didn't subside. Someone's following me. Terrible things were said to happen to people who wandered out at night alone, not that Quatre had ever believed it, but he now wondered if there was any truth to the tales. Still, he wasn't nearly frightened enough to run, because nothing had even happened to him yet. He made it back to his small palace unharmed and saw no sign of anyone behind him. The house was almost entirely still, other than a few servants, so he had no problem slipping in unnoticed to his quarters.
Quatre went out to his balcony and looked at the sky. It was the darkest part of the night, just a few hours before dawn, so he decided that not sleeping at all would be better than sleeping a few hours and waking up tired. To keep himself preoccupied, he returned to his room and grabbed his violin, leaving the balcony door open. Playing music required full attention, which was exactly what he needed at the moment. Quatre began playing and soon became so absorbed in his music that he didn't notice when someone else began playing with him. It was several minutes before he even heard the flute playing outside his window, in perfect harmony with his own violin song. Naturally curious, he went to the open balcony, still playing for fear the strange flutist would stop if he were discovered. The eerie feeling Quatre had earlier returned. Whoever was playing the flute was undoubtedly the same person following him before. He stepped quietly outside just in time to see a tall figure below slip into the shadows, out of sight, but still present. The music still played, louder and more beautiful now, though Quatre had stopped with his violin. Something about the song was perfectly enchanting; indeed, he would have gone to find the player if a terrible fear hadn't suddenly came upon him. He knew enough to trust his instincts, so he ran inside and locked the balcony door. Taking some deep breaths, he could have sworn he saw a pair of inhuman eyes looking at him from outside.
This was too much even for him. Whatever had followed him back to his house and serenaded him simply wasn't a natural being, he was sure. There was no way Quatre was staying alone any longer this night. Grabbing a lantern, he made his way down the corridor to where his sisters' rooms were, realizing how ironic it was compared to his earlier thoughts.
* * *
He had first seen the boy at the ball, which was obviously being held in his honor. Trowa wasn't the type to go to social events normally; he was here for a different reason. He had noticed the boy immediately, simply because it was impossible not to. His hair shone golden in the light, and his eyes were neither blue nor green, but a stunning aqua. He was a beautiful boy, made to stand out in a crowd. Trowa, on the other hand, did his best to be unnoticeable. He gave off a rather mysterious air, though, partly because he wore all black compared to the brightly colored crowd around him, and also due to the shock of brown hair that covered one half of his face. The vampire's green eyes glistened hungrily at the sight around him. So many choices... his companion Heero had already found a victim. Trowa saw him walking out of the hall with a young girl on his arm, "escorting her home." Poor girl. Even for a vampire, at least Trowa had a conscience. It bothered him to take innocent humans like her; he always chose people he thought deserved to suffer. True, it was quite unlikely she would die; a vampire could feed off the same human for five days with little harm to it. But that wouldn't make the terror any more bearable.
He turned back to the young man he had been watching. Not the type he generally went for – the boy radiated innocence like a lamp – but Trowa couldn't stop looking at him. He wanted to keep him, but that would mean turning him into a vampire like himself, and the others might not like it. There were enough of them as it was, and another would mean more need for food, which would lead to more humans being killed, which would eventually be figured out. Still ... Trowa was sorely tempted. Maybe just this once. He left the ball alone, still hungry, but weaving a spell of beckoning to the blond boy in the middle of the hall.
He waited in a cold alley, once again by himself in the dark. It was not long, however, before his keen eyes saw the boy walking towards him. He was even more stunning in solitude, and something in Trowa's soulless body yearned for him. Only a few more yards and the boy would be within his reach. Suddenly, though, he turned around and quickly started walking back the direction he came. Confused, Trowa followed him.
He stood outside the boy's home wondering what had gone wrong. The spell should have worked, but somehow, the beckoning had been broken. Trowa contemplated his actions until, above him, he heard clear music. Someone was playing a violin in the middle of the night. Peering through an open balcony door, he saw that the musician was none other than the boy he had been stalking. Trowa reached for the flute he always carried with him. He had a new plan, though it was riskier, because someone else might hear him, and the place was crowded with people. Nonetheless, he began to play his flute, harmonizing with the violin, while weaving another spell, made stronger by the music. As he expected, the boy came out to find him. Trowa played louder now, his song heartbreaking in its beauty. But, once again, the boy stopped after a few steps and went back inside, this time shutting and locking the door. Trowa cursed. Somehow, his spells weren't being effective.
He flew to his home, a large, deserted warehouse with boarded up windows. He was still hungry, but it was almost morning, and there was no way he could risk his life searching for food. Maybe Heero would share.
Heero was there when he entered, along with their other companion, Duo. Duo wasn't a vampire, but he wasn't human either. Actually, Trowa wasn't sure what he was; not that he'd ever cared. Heero stood over the prostrate body of the girl he had taken earlier. Trowa immediately sensed something was wrong.
"She's dead, isn't she," he asked.
"Yes."
"Well, what the hell happened? Surely you didn't kill her on purpose."
"Yes. I don't know ... I hated her."
"You see," Duo broke in, "our brilliant friend here decided he somehow didn't like this girl, so he killed her and left us with figuring out what to do with the body. Great idea, huh?"
Trowa frowned. This was a problem. The humans could not have any logical suspicions about vampires, otherwise they would leave, or worse, gather together and try to wipe out vampires entirely.
"Take home, and put her in her room, with all the doors locked to the inside. Make it look like she died inside her room, alone," he said finally.
"Do you think it will work?" Heero said.
"Better than anything else," Trowa replied. "We have to hurry, though, before someone wakes to find her gone."
Duo glared at him with his strange violet eyes. "You mean I have to hurry. You know damn well that you two can't go out there when the sun is about to rise." He shrugged and picked up the dead girl. "You owe me, Heero."
Heero smiled slyly. "Anytime..."
With Duo gone, Trowa remembered his own problem. "Heero... I need to talk to you."
"What?" Heero ran his fingers through his raven-dark hair.
"I used a beckoning spell, twice, last night. Both times it didn't work."
"Was it on the same human?"
"Yes."
Heero was silent for a while. "Maybe it was an empath."
Trowa hadn't thought of that, but it made sense. If the boy he had tried to charm were empathetic, he would feel the presence of others, including vampires. No wonder his spells hadn't worked, if he could sense them beforehand.
"Possibly..." he said finally.
Heero narrowed his eyes. "Why did you need to use a charm, anyway?"
Now it was Trowa's turn to be silent. At last he looked up at Heero. "I wanted to make him into one of us."
Heero was obviously surprised. "Who's he? And why would you want to do that?"
"I don't know... I just wanted him. Besides, you're the one who made me into a vampire, why should you care if I do the same?"
"That's true. There were a lot less of us in the area, though. Well, what's the guys name?"
"I didn't ask... I'm sure you saw him though. Teenager, short blonde hair, it looked like the ball was thrown in honor of him."
"Shit! Trowa, don't you know who he is? That's Quatre Winner."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"That means that even if the others let you, you could never make him one of us. He's the only son of the Winner family, and if anything happened to him, they would never stop searching. They would go on a damn vampire hunting spree, I tell you."
"I'm not afraid of humans."
"That's not the point, Trowa. It's about human politics. If a leading person like him suddenly disappears, it's bad for the race in general. They get nervous, and suspicious about the dark beings. Before you know it, they come in riots, determined to kill us off. I know we're not as venerable as they think, but I still have a feeling that many of us would die."
Heero's speech surprised Trowa. Usually, it was Heero who held life of any kind in total disregard. Now, he acted as if he really cared about the vampire population. Why care about them? Part of their lifestyle was the almost complete isolation from everyone, including their own race. Wasn't the worst part of being a vampire that they spent eternity alone? This was why he wanted the boy, Quatre, as his companion. In the beginning, Heero had chosen Trowa to be his own, and had made him into what he was. But then, he had met Duo, and left Trowa alone.
"The sun's coming up."
The statement shook Trowa out of his thoughts, and he flew to his dark haven for a day of rest.
The darkness shrouded him, inky blackness serving as a cloak. Not that it mattered, for no one was out this late in the evening. Tonight, the green- eyed vampire stood alone. He scarcely moved, but his senses were alert as he waited for his companions to come. He didn't have long to wait. Another form congealed into being beside him, looking at him with intense cobalt eyes before it spoke.
"Are you ready, Trowa?"
"Of course."
With these words, the two vampires disappeared into the shadows.
Chapter 1
Quatre was inexplicably bored. He'd spent hours at this terrible ball his father had so carefully planned. He'd danced with countless ladies throughout the night, all of which had adored him for his good looks, charming personality, and, of course, the fact that he was heir to the prestigious Winner family. Quatre wasn't interested in any of them, however; to him it was sheer misery. He sighed, blowing stray golden hair out of his face. The ball was finally almost over. Quatre worked his way toward his father on the other side of the room.
"Well, what did you think of it?" his father said when Quatre approached him.
"I thought it was nice," he replied.
"Did you meet anyone?"
"Well... not really."
He could tell his father was disappointed. The entire purpose of these elaborate balls was so Quatre could find a wife, but so far, the search had been unsuccessful.
"What about that Peacecraft girl?"
"Lady Relena?" Quatre shrugged. "She's worth considering, I suppose."
He had danced with Relena Peacecraft twice during the night, and she was by far the most intelligent and diplomatic girl in the room, but she was a total pacifist, which he found quite annoying. After all, fighting must happen for peace to be maintained. Still, if he had to choose, she would probably be the best wife.
"That's the closest to a 'yes' I've heard so far. I look forward to an engagement then, unless you find someone else."
Quatre knew better than to argue.
"Yes, Father. If you don't need me for anything else, I think I'll go walking. It's terribly hot in here."
"I don't want you out there Quatre. It's too dangerous this late at night."
"I'll just be in the gardens. Surely that's safe enough."
"Very well. I'll speak to you in the morning." He turned and left Quatre to himself. The blonde boy sighed and walked out of the hall toward the elaborate gardens. As he paced, he thought about what his father had said. Though the man loved him as much as he could, he was obstinate and would not go back on his word about his only son finding a wife. Maybe it was because he had 29 sisters, but the fact was Quatre really didn't like the presence of women at all. The thought of marrying some strange girl disturbed him.
After walking the gardens for some time, he felt the need to walk the streets. No one will be out this late, anyway, he thought as he opened one of the gates and stepped outside. There was no moon, but the darkness was oddly compelling. Quatre walked farther than he intended, and probably would have kept going, but he began to have a strange feeling. Not bad, exactly, but being naturally empathetic, he knew when to trust his gut, and he knew that someone was nearby watching him. He quickly turned around and went the direction of his house, and was rather surprised when the feeling didn't subside. Someone's following me. Terrible things were said to happen to people who wandered out at night alone, not that Quatre had ever believed it, but he now wondered if there was any truth to the tales. Still, he wasn't nearly frightened enough to run, because nothing had even happened to him yet. He made it back to his small palace unharmed and saw no sign of anyone behind him. The house was almost entirely still, other than a few servants, so he had no problem slipping in unnoticed to his quarters.
Quatre went out to his balcony and looked at the sky. It was the darkest part of the night, just a few hours before dawn, so he decided that not sleeping at all would be better than sleeping a few hours and waking up tired. To keep himself preoccupied, he returned to his room and grabbed his violin, leaving the balcony door open. Playing music required full attention, which was exactly what he needed at the moment. Quatre began playing and soon became so absorbed in his music that he didn't notice when someone else began playing with him. It was several minutes before he even heard the flute playing outside his window, in perfect harmony with his own violin song. Naturally curious, he went to the open balcony, still playing for fear the strange flutist would stop if he were discovered. The eerie feeling Quatre had earlier returned. Whoever was playing the flute was undoubtedly the same person following him before. He stepped quietly outside just in time to see a tall figure below slip into the shadows, out of sight, but still present. The music still played, louder and more beautiful now, though Quatre had stopped with his violin. Something about the song was perfectly enchanting; indeed, he would have gone to find the player if a terrible fear hadn't suddenly came upon him. He knew enough to trust his instincts, so he ran inside and locked the balcony door. Taking some deep breaths, he could have sworn he saw a pair of inhuman eyes looking at him from outside.
This was too much even for him. Whatever had followed him back to his house and serenaded him simply wasn't a natural being, he was sure. There was no way Quatre was staying alone any longer this night. Grabbing a lantern, he made his way down the corridor to where his sisters' rooms were, realizing how ironic it was compared to his earlier thoughts.
* * *
He had first seen the boy at the ball, which was obviously being held in his honor. Trowa wasn't the type to go to social events normally; he was here for a different reason. He had noticed the boy immediately, simply because it was impossible not to. His hair shone golden in the light, and his eyes were neither blue nor green, but a stunning aqua. He was a beautiful boy, made to stand out in a crowd. Trowa, on the other hand, did his best to be unnoticeable. He gave off a rather mysterious air, though, partly because he wore all black compared to the brightly colored crowd around him, and also due to the shock of brown hair that covered one half of his face. The vampire's green eyes glistened hungrily at the sight around him. So many choices... his companion Heero had already found a victim. Trowa saw him walking out of the hall with a young girl on his arm, "escorting her home." Poor girl. Even for a vampire, at least Trowa had a conscience. It bothered him to take innocent humans like her; he always chose people he thought deserved to suffer. True, it was quite unlikely she would die; a vampire could feed off the same human for five days with little harm to it. But that wouldn't make the terror any more bearable.
He turned back to the young man he had been watching. Not the type he generally went for – the boy radiated innocence like a lamp – but Trowa couldn't stop looking at him. He wanted to keep him, but that would mean turning him into a vampire like himself, and the others might not like it. There were enough of them as it was, and another would mean more need for food, which would lead to more humans being killed, which would eventually be figured out. Still ... Trowa was sorely tempted. Maybe just this once. He left the ball alone, still hungry, but weaving a spell of beckoning to the blond boy in the middle of the hall.
He waited in a cold alley, once again by himself in the dark. It was not long, however, before his keen eyes saw the boy walking towards him. He was even more stunning in solitude, and something in Trowa's soulless body yearned for him. Only a few more yards and the boy would be within his reach. Suddenly, though, he turned around and quickly started walking back the direction he came. Confused, Trowa followed him.
He stood outside the boy's home wondering what had gone wrong. The spell should have worked, but somehow, the beckoning had been broken. Trowa contemplated his actions until, above him, he heard clear music. Someone was playing a violin in the middle of the night. Peering through an open balcony door, he saw that the musician was none other than the boy he had been stalking. Trowa reached for the flute he always carried with him. He had a new plan, though it was riskier, because someone else might hear him, and the place was crowded with people. Nonetheless, he began to play his flute, harmonizing with the violin, while weaving another spell, made stronger by the music. As he expected, the boy came out to find him. Trowa played louder now, his song heartbreaking in its beauty. But, once again, the boy stopped after a few steps and went back inside, this time shutting and locking the door. Trowa cursed. Somehow, his spells weren't being effective.
He flew to his home, a large, deserted warehouse with boarded up windows. He was still hungry, but it was almost morning, and there was no way he could risk his life searching for food. Maybe Heero would share.
Heero was there when he entered, along with their other companion, Duo. Duo wasn't a vampire, but he wasn't human either. Actually, Trowa wasn't sure what he was; not that he'd ever cared. Heero stood over the prostrate body of the girl he had taken earlier. Trowa immediately sensed something was wrong.
"She's dead, isn't she," he asked.
"Yes."
"Well, what the hell happened? Surely you didn't kill her on purpose."
"Yes. I don't know ... I hated her."
"You see," Duo broke in, "our brilliant friend here decided he somehow didn't like this girl, so he killed her and left us with figuring out what to do with the body. Great idea, huh?"
Trowa frowned. This was a problem. The humans could not have any logical suspicions about vampires, otherwise they would leave, or worse, gather together and try to wipe out vampires entirely.
"Take home, and put her in her room, with all the doors locked to the inside. Make it look like she died inside her room, alone," he said finally.
"Do you think it will work?" Heero said.
"Better than anything else," Trowa replied. "We have to hurry, though, before someone wakes to find her gone."
Duo glared at him with his strange violet eyes. "You mean I have to hurry. You know damn well that you two can't go out there when the sun is about to rise." He shrugged and picked up the dead girl. "You owe me, Heero."
Heero smiled slyly. "Anytime..."
With Duo gone, Trowa remembered his own problem. "Heero... I need to talk to you."
"What?" Heero ran his fingers through his raven-dark hair.
"I used a beckoning spell, twice, last night. Both times it didn't work."
"Was it on the same human?"
"Yes."
Heero was silent for a while. "Maybe it was an empath."
Trowa hadn't thought of that, but it made sense. If the boy he had tried to charm were empathetic, he would feel the presence of others, including vampires. No wonder his spells hadn't worked, if he could sense them beforehand.
"Possibly..." he said finally.
Heero narrowed his eyes. "Why did you need to use a charm, anyway?"
Now it was Trowa's turn to be silent. At last he looked up at Heero. "I wanted to make him into one of us."
Heero was obviously surprised. "Who's he? And why would you want to do that?"
"I don't know... I just wanted him. Besides, you're the one who made me into a vampire, why should you care if I do the same?"
"That's true. There were a lot less of us in the area, though. Well, what's the guys name?"
"I didn't ask... I'm sure you saw him though. Teenager, short blonde hair, it looked like the ball was thrown in honor of him."
"Shit! Trowa, don't you know who he is? That's Quatre Winner."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"That means that even if the others let you, you could never make him one of us. He's the only son of the Winner family, and if anything happened to him, they would never stop searching. They would go on a damn vampire hunting spree, I tell you."
"I'm not afraid of humans."
"That's not the point, Trowa. It's about human politics. If a leading person like him suddenly disappears, it's bad for the race in general. They get nervous, and suspicious about the dark beings. Before you know it, they come in riots, determined to kill us off. I know we're not as venerable as they think, but I still have a feeling that many of us would die."
Heero's speech surprised Trowa. Usually, it was Heero who held life of any kind in total disregard. Now, he acted as if he really cared about the vampire population. Why care about them? Part of their lifestyle was the almost complete isolation from everyone, including their own race. Wasn't the worst part of being a vampire that they spent eternity alone? This was why he wanted the boy, Quatre, as his companion. In the beginning, Heero had chosen Trowa to be his own, and had made him into what he was. But then, he had met Duo, and left Trowa alone.
"The sun's coming up."
The statement shook Trowa out of his thoughts, and he flew to his dark haven for a day of rest.