Gasping for air she, arrived at the Castle le Beaudillavèla sometime after sun-up. She entered by a back door and hastened to her lord first, to inform him of the outcome. Outside his chambers, she paused here to rap thrice with the silver knocker in the shape of their mascot, the head of a lion. The doors slowly opened from inside, allowing her entrance. She hastened down the long, austere room—quite the contrast to the Silvanus throne room, which was luxurious and heavily laden with beautiful objects.

To her disappointment, but not surprise, the room was empty. There was no Lord le Beaudillavèla. He had told her, "Come back by sun-up or we will presume the mission failed, and you dead." Now it was well passed the designated time. She exited again through the electronically automated doors and headed for her own private chambers. She would have to wait until night fell again to inform him of her return, as he had gone into slumber for the day. Still however, here at the house du Beaudillavèla, not all was quite. Again, this was a contrast to the house of Silvanus, where all slumbered peacefully by day. But at le Beaudillavèla the house was busy night and day. Those who could only walk by night did so, and those of some human lineage were able to walk by day as well. Jaqueline le Beaudillavèla was one such as that—she was a dhampir.

And so she entered her apartment. Her first action was to close the deep purple curtains. Although she enjoyed the sun on occasion, this was not one such occasion. Filling the bathtub behind the screen (although quite ancient the castle was modernized with plumbing), le Beaudillavèla stripped herself of her clothing. She extended a pale leg into the water to test for the temperature, and finding it acceptable, she let the rest of herself slip in as well. The first thing she did, naturally, was to feel for the dagger behind the head cushion. Jaqueline le Beaudillavèla knew her disadvantage in water, and so would like to account for it if there was any unexpected trouble. The water and the warmth felt so comforting though, that she was unable to stop herself from drifting into sleep.

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le Beaudillavèla awoke. After washing herself she got out of the tub and slipped into a black silk robe. Her just-washed locks were only slightly better now, and she was able to run her fingers through part of them. She had worked hard to get her chin-length hair to this status. She was very proud. Most however, regarded this as highly uncivilized, distasteful, and disgusting. She saw it as style. After her hair had been attended to, she dressed in her off-duty clothing: a studded leather halter top, tight leather pants and form-fitting boots.

Having no other assignment at the moment, le Beaudillavèla decided to kill time training in the armory and reviewing files of this Alester, whose stomach she had blown a hole through.

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He was the son of Lord Silvanus, actually. Typically sons of the lords were not trained as assassins, though it was not an unheard of premise. According to the computer he was also into chemistry. He had an entire lab to himself, or so it said. No one knew the entirety of what it was he did there, but he conducted frequent experiments. It seemed this was more of a hobby than an actual occupation. In his actual occupation—that in which she had encountered him earlier—he had been trained since birth, so it was no wonder he was such the worthy opponent he had proved himself to be.

What was it that he had said…? "That would be quite a pity, as you have such a nice face for one of your job." Had he really meant that? She was a natural skeptic. She concluded him to be lying, just to make the last few moments of her life as emptily pleasurable as possible. Just a likely thing that a chemist would do…experiment—to see the look of confusion on her face before she died. She remembered his face, sneering down at her. As much as she hated admitting it, it was indeed a nice face, like he had said she had

She let go of that thought. She was an assassin. She could not divert herself by admiring the physical beauty of an enemy. She would have him dead—and soon, too.

With that decided she shut down the computer and headed for the armory.

XXXXX

Later that evening was when le Beaudillavèla actually had the opportunity to report to her lord. She was admitted into his private chamber several moments after he had risen. When she entered, his back was to her and he was adorning himself with a flowing rouge cape. He turned around just then.

"Jaqueline de Beaudillavèla, have you any idea how late you are?" inquired the lord of the house. He was young for a lord, although not abnormally so. Humans would have put him to be in his late 40s. He had dark hair that was lightly graying in the front, but his smile was just as winning as any.

"I apologize," said Jaqueline, "I was unexpectedly delayed."

"Was the mission successful?"

She bit her lip. "No, no it wasn't. Their king still lives."

"Were you able to deal any injury to anyone?"

"I was. When I entered they were, as you had predicted, caught off guard a great deal. They attempted to arrest me, but the lord proposed a duel between me and their best."

The Lord du Beaudillavèla smiled bitterly. "And you lost."

"I did not lose." Jaqueline enunciated each word carefully. "I injured him. He was able to disarm me, at which point I took advantage of my firearms."

"Does he still live?"

She paused, then, "Yes."

He said nothing.

Jaqueline de Beaudillavèla waited.

"Clearly," spoke the lord, "He is skilled. We sent our best. They in turn, sent their best to you. Now that they know we are more directly acting against them and avoiding conflicts, I would assume they are now more highly guarded. We need to act."

"Tell me when."

"When they need to feed."

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It was two nights before the Great Banquet of the year at the House of Silvanus. It was in those two nights that the Silvanus would indulge in their monthly true nourishment—instead of drinking the adequate synthesized blood that Alester and his compatriots were able to produce. It was at such a banquet that the lower peasant vampires, those either recently turned, or of lesser ancestry, would go to the dungeon levels of the castle and slay the humans in storage. And, at this particular banquet—the Great Banquet—it was an occasion for true festivities in the House of Silvanus. A great masquerade was held, where all came masked. And most looked forward to of all, was the sacrifice. At the head of the table, at the hour of Midnight, the lord would stand and the chosen, fresh blood would be brought forth. This unlucky being was first partook of by the lord, and then to the heir to the throne, and the next down, and on, and on, until the victim was drained. And it was such that this victim was captured alive from a nearby village two nights before the masquerade.

On this given night Jaqueline de Beaudillavèla went to the village. The clan, in their love and duty to humans, was sending le Beaudillavèla to impede the kidnapper of the victim of the Silvanus' Great Banquet. So as the darkness of twilight crept up from the Eastern horizon, l'assassine Beaudillavèla positioned herself behind one of the gate posts at the entrance to the village. The activity of the people was slowing down, and the last of the men were just going inside to dinner, and the clucking of the hens was beginning to die away as they settled down in their henhouses, and the neighing of the horses was beginning to turn into the slow deep rumble of their breath as they slept. As all the sounds of the day slowly died, all the sounds of the night began to come alive. This was what Jaqueline le Beaudillavèla always loved the most. This was always when she felt the most alive.

And so she waited.

XXXXX

A pair of black boots made their way through the forest. The wearer had no regard for the puddles of mud remaining from the latest rain, nor did he show any concern for vegetation as he carelessly trod over all. As he emerged from the trees, the moon shown on his face and Alester Silvanus clutched the tranquilizer darts at his side. Though the gates to the village were closed, he agilely leapt the stone wall that seemed to sprout from roots buried deep within the ground so many years ago.

Alester made his way down the streets, past many houses and barns, and wooden fences, and as he did so, not a living being stirred. He went past the deserted tavern, and the bakery. The sign at the inn squeaked as it rocked back and forth on its hinges as Alester passed. But he kept walking. He knew where he was going.

Finally he stopped. He was outside a first-floor window of a small stone house. Inside, the curtains were drawn, so as to shield the sleeper inside from whatever served and stalked the night streets. In this case, it was Alester Silvanus.

He extended and arm, and using only one finger, he raised the window. Parting the curtains, he entered the dwelling. He crossed the room to where, in the far corner, a slumbering form lay beneath sheets. The form was that of a small child; a girl. Her crimped blond hair the color of moonlight revealed her to be around seven or eight. A serene smile played over her lips as the child rolled over onto her other side.

Alester stood over the bed. He stared down into the innocent face of the girl, seeing not the child behind it, but merely the banquet to come and her purpose there. His hand reached for his tranquilizer gun. But it was not there. He felt on his other side.

Then he heard a sound that made him stop. It was the cocking of a firearm. And, if his senses served him well, it was pointed at the back of his head.

Alester gritted his teeth. He should have known. He turned around, his hands up.

Staring into the pompous eyes of le Beaudillavèla, Alester said, "What an unexpected pleasure to see you here, Jaqueline. I should only have anticipated this."

le Beaudillavèla raised her other hand to inspect what it held: the small tranquilizer gun. "Yes, you should have," she replied. "Let's get to the point, shall we?" She smiled falsely.

"Let's."

"First, you will step away from the child."

Alester did not move.

le Beaudillavèla tightened her grasp on the weapon. "Now."

"You expect me to concede to your will so easily?"

"I do, seeing as I have a gun and you are weaponless."

"An assassin is never weaponless, Jaqueline."

"Keep saying that. Now move."

He was still for a moment, and then his body moved in a seamless arch, which would have been invisible to the human eye: he turned around, grabbed the girl, and faced le Beaudillavèla, this time holding the girl in front of him, like a shield. His hand covered her mouth, and she was now very awake.

Alester sneered. "Now shoot me."

le Beaudillavèla looked at the girl. Her eyes were wide with fright and confusion. She clearly had no idea what was happening over her. Jaqueline lowered her gun. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"You bastard," she said.

"I'm presuming you would now prefer for us to take this outside?" asked Alester.

With her chin, le Beaudillavèla motioned to the window. She slipped out easily. Alester followed, still holding the girl. Once outside he bound and gagged her, using strips he tore from his shirt. Looking at her he said, "Now that she's seen us, we can't leave her here. She has to go with one or the other of us. Or die."

le Beaudillavèla smiled wryly. "As if you weren't going to kill her anyway."

"Ah, but she would live considerably longer: two days. Anyway, there is but one way to settle this."

Alester, taking the girl in his arms again, began walking toward the forest. le Beaudillavèla followed several feet behind.

Alester finally stopped, in a clearing just beyond the gate. "Drop your weapons," he instructed.

le Beaudillavèla removed the sword from her back, the two guns strapped to her thighs, and the tranquilizer tucked in an interior pocket. Then she turned and faced Alester.

They each backed away ten steps, adopted their fighting stances, and began. le Beaudillavèla aimed a head-high kick at Alester, Alester blocked and aimed for her stomach, and le Beaudillavèla was knocked off her feet.

"Could it be that hand-to-hand is not your forte?" asked Alester.

From the ground, le Beaudillavèla grimaced and launched herself at him. Alester managed to counter all of her blows, and then he bent her arm back at the elbow so her wrist stuck up over her shoulder. le Beaudillavèla cried out in pain as he held her there, taking pride from the look in her eyes. le Beaudillavèla plunged her other hand into her jacket, pulled from it a dagger, reached around, and stabbed Alester in the back. In turn, he let loose a deep scream as the blood flowed from his back onto Jaqueline's hand. She reclaimed her dagger, ran to the girl and cut her bindings and pulled her gag.

"Come!" she said to her. "We must go now." The girl stared, petrified. "Now, we haven't got much time." As she took a hold of the girls hand and headed into the forest, she turned back around in time to see Alester on his knees, his eyes glued to Jaqueline's face. "The second time you cheated," he said.

le Beaudillavèla kept running. "Stay close," she told the girl. "We have a long way to go." And together, the two made their way back to the towering spires of the looming Château du Beaudillavèla.