Scene 2

Like a bloody hand reaching out for the sky, the Castle of Chayte loomed over the quickly darkening skies, forbidden even without the countess's presence. Shadows blackened portions of her parapets, and bats flew up into the moon that shined like a silver coin. The smell of death and decay encompassed every corner of the gate as the two passed over it.

D was astride his cybernetic horse while Leila drove her battle motorcycle neither exchanging much more than what was strictly necessary as they made their way toward the castle. D was hardly a conversationalist and blond-haired woman seemed strangely subdued. While Carmilla was noticably gone, the castle was not without its dangers. But neither needed to draw a weapon as all manner of guardians hung back, obedient in the wake of their new master.

At the huge double doors stood a young vampire, silver hair reflecting the moonlight, attired in a simple but elegant black suit and cape.

Meir Link.

"Welcome to the Castle of Chayte," came the Noble's cultured voice.

Her motorcycle giving a disgruntled sound as she halted it, Leila said, "Welcome? To Castle Chayte? To the remanets of hell is more like it."

The vampire's face shadowed, troubled. "You have not seen hell, I assure you." Then, softly, he added, "...not yet."

D dismounted, casting his gaze about, then those otherwordly eyes settled on Meir. "I understand you are interested in employing me." Nothing else mattered to the dhampire. Though he had felt no dislike for Meir, the man was still a vampire, and for that sake alone the dhampire might have refused except that Leila had asked for his involvement. That said, the vampire hunter insisted on twice his usual asking price and she readily agreed.

When people were willing to pay such a steep price one had to wonder why...

Meir nodded. "Come, inside."

After their transportation was suitably stowed away and Leila and D were refreshed, the three convened in a room, the one D identified as the one Charlotte had been enchanted and drawn in to the mirror. That mirror gave no sign of such power now, as the one who'd wielded was dead. Meir assured them of that. Carmilla, or what was left of her, lay in her coffin, repinned underneath the Sacred Ancestor's sword.

"Who's the vampire?" D was straight to the point, as always.

Normally calm as a perfectly chilled night, Meir squirmed in his chair. "You hadn't told him?" he asked not D but Leila who seemed to catch his discomfort also looking like she'd have like any other question than that. The two exchanged a glance, then the young lord let out a sigh and said, "If I tell you do you promise to stay focused on your job?"

The dhampire barely moved like a statue frozen in time, his mouth the only motion, "I always do."

Had D permitted it, laughter would have issued from his closed fist, but as it was, not even a snort could be heard.

"The Sacred Ancestor."

If it were possible D was even frozen further still, his eyes the only sign of his reaction. Inside the pools of darkness something stirred, something so horrible and so powerful that Leila gasped. Hunger. Hatred. D had never so much as spoken about his family or origins to the woman, even as she was surrendering her own history. For the tragedies she had suffered somehow Leila realized that the dhampire suffered tenfold.

And family tragedies were the worst she well knew.

"Where is he?" The voice sounded as if he inquired about the weather or some other mundane matter. And it was all the more frightening because of those eyes that betrayed the deadly emotion in those words.

Meir sat back, lips pressed in a hard line. "The City of Night."

"Then we head there at once." There was no brokering an argument with that steely voice.

With a nod, Meir said, "Certainly we leave soon as possible, but I must first explain my position and you must stay on course to achieve it, as you have so given your word." The lord too seemed to sense the storm circling in the dhampire's blood and had no wish to have it stand in the way of the mission. "We need to retrieve Charlotte's body from him."

"Body?" Leila swirled in her chair to face the vampire fully, her curtain of golden hair flew in front of her face. She pushed it back irritably. "She's dead? You told me she still lived!"

"It's...terribly complicated."

"Isn't everything all the time?" she muttered, arms crossed.

"She's changed, isn't she?" D spoke coldly, his words a statement not a question.

That something terrible and dark in the dhampire's gaze disturbed even Meir. The lord swirled a glass of wine absently. "I don't know the particulars. But what I do know is that the Sacred Ancestor made off with her body that I had encased in a glass coffin and has been...experimenting on her." Now the silver brows knit together, angered. "And our ancestor or not, I will not allow anyone to touch my dear Charlotte."

Standing, his presence emanated like a blanket of shadows, D said, "Then we should leave immediately."

Meir shook his head. "The Charlotte--the starship I've used--isn't ready for launch just yet. Go rest for a few hours and I'll notify you both when we're ready to depart." Rising, the young lord glanced at them both. His own eyes beheld great pain concealed behind a nobleman's poise. Leila wondered if to carry a Noble's blood was to always have a life in suffering and shadows.

She shivered then looked up.

Of course D was already gone, like the night evaporating into dawn's first pre-light.

"I hate it when he does that," she grumbled.