Salvete, omnes! I finished three out of four papers and finally found time to finish up this chapter. Thanks so much for your reviews on the last chapter, though I know that the site was acting up o.O Alas! What are we mere mortals to do but pray to the gods of the Ubiquitous Uncontrollable Universe, ie. the World-Wide-Web? (That's from Amy Tam, by the way. She can be very amusing, sometimes).

Anyway...Enjoy!
Disclaimer: MaiHIME is not mine

Yellow police lines shuddered beneath the pattering rain. All was gray but for the vibrant neon blockade. The skies boiled with precipitation. The alternatively paved and cobblestone streets bore deep puddles that seemed to leap from the earth due to the force of the downpour. The walls of stone buildings were stained darker in large arcs, glaucopous as the gaze of Athene. (1). They loomed over a narrow space between them, casting a shadow over a figure sprawled across it and the officers clustered around it.

Painted lips pursed around the white cylinder of a cigarette. Cheeks sank inwards as lungs drew in and a manicured hand reached up, two fingers pulling the cigarette away. Smoke drifted in front of Nao's face as she exhaled, curling in thin tendrils before dissipating into the damp atmosphere. She stood over the body, ignoring the rain. That morning she had predictably forgotten her umbrella. At first, it had irked her, having to live in this sodden country, away from her native France. Irked? No, it infuriated her. The British had no sense of taste-their people were as gray and unadorned as their miserable little island. Nao yearned for the violet fields of Provence, the towering spires of Reims in all their crowning glory, the sparkle of parisiennes in their natural habitat, lunching for hours beneath the shelters of sun-beaten awnings. (2). But instead, she was here. Here, examining yet another dead body, lazily puffing on a cigarette.

"Morning, Nao!"

She didn't turn or even acknowledge the voice which hailed her. What was it with these people, she wondered acridly, that made them so unbearably cheery at the most ungodly of hours? She would never understand it.

Her partner, Takeda, came up beside her, smiling broadly. The only thing she and her partner had in common were their clothes. Identical, double-breasted black suits, dark gray button-up shirts beneath and narrow green silk ties bearing a black sunburst. Takeda's dark brown hair was gelled into spikes and he had a scar upon his left cheek. Nao had never asked how he had come across such an adornment, but then again she didn't really care. His shoes were scuffed, she noticed. Her own leather shoes had been buffed to a dull shine.

"Here."

She arched an eyebrow at him as he held out a spare umbrella; his own was open and protecting him from the rain. Grunting in thanks, she took it and snapped it open, deftly maneuvering the cigarette between her fingers as she did so.

"So," he asked, "What do we got today?"

Raising the cigarette to her lips again, she puffed away then answered, "Female. Age: Seventeen. Caucasian. Exsanguinated." Her voice carried only a hint of her origins, and her pronunciation and command of the English language was superb.

"Sounds pretty typical," he observed the body, the clean slash across her neck, the brightly coloured rain-coat, "We should be able to wrap this up in no time."

Nao flicked ash from the end of the cigarette, "There are some...oddities."

He frowned, "Like what? Look at her," Takeda gestured, careful to keep his arm from the rain, "Drained. Dumped. It's a Fang. Let's ship her off to Yohko and catch the bastard that did this."

Glaring, she tossed the white stub to her feet and ground it to a pulpy mass of tobacco with her heel. Immediately, she fished out another from a pack in her breast pocket and stuck it between her teeth, "I have been looking, Masashi. And I've got a weird feeling about this one."

As she searched unsuccessfully through her pockets for matches, he shook his head and withdrew a cheap plastic lighter, "Feeling? I didn't know you had feelings, Nao." He teased, a flame jumping to life as his thumb expertly flicked the lighter.

She lit her cigarette and blew smoke in his grinning face, "No matter how long I've worked with you," she growled, "Your humour never seems to improve. Look at her hand, smartass."

Crouching, he peered at it and shrugged, "It's a very nice hand, I suppose. Was she a model for rings, like what you see on the telly?"

"The other one."

"Wha-? Oh..."

His dark face screwed up in a contemplative scowl. Where there was once a hand there now remained only a bloody stump. Pale bone peaked out from the wrist, though there was no blood pooling around the wound. Takeda stood and scrubbed at the back of his head. as he did so the cuffs of his shirt peeled back slightly to reveal a flat, rectangular object strapped to his forearm. Nao didn't think twice about it. she couldn't count the number of times he'd whipped his wrist and a narrow katana unfolded in his hand, the steely, lightweight metal emanating an orange-red light at even integrals the heat of which could sear through bone and sinew as if it were fog. More than one Fang had met its maker at the edge of that blade.

"Well, what do you think it was, then?"

Nao jerked her head for Takeda to follow her around the body. Her shoe plunged suddenly into a puddle that she had mistaken for being more shallow than it actually was and she hissed a profanity in French, "Fils de pute!" shaking off the offending limb like a disgusted cat. (3). When she stepped back down again, her cold foot squished unpleasantly. Together they knelt at the corpse's side, careful not to touch the body. Nao pointed at the wound, "Clean cut. Surgical in precision. This was post-mortem and executed with great care. What would a Fang want with a right hand? They normally don't horde body parts."

"Are you sure she wasn't tied up somewhere and cut off her own hand to escape?" Rain tumbled over the polyester brims of their umbrellas, adding to the already soaked garb of the victim, "They've been known to keep their food chained up for further use and entertainment."

Shaking her head, Nao drew deeply upon the cylinder, its embrous end slowly creeping toward her fingers, "There's no sign of bruising or other kinds of abuse. This was a quick, clean kill. Professional."

"Vampire-doctor preys upon a patient?" he supplied, only to have his theory shot down once more.

"What if," Nao began slowly, the small frown that perpetually adorned her features deepening, "What if this wasn't a vampire at all?"

"A human? Completely drain a victim?" his question held a hint of incredulity.

"It wouldn't be the first time."

He rose, "The majority of cases like that almost always have a serial killer as the culprit. There's no indication that this is linked to any other case. There haven't been any instances seen like this in nearly ten, maybe twenty years. And if this is so meticulous, as is evident, I agree with you on that part at least, wouldn't this murder be the result of years of similar situations?"

"How the hell should I know?" Nao growled, shooting daggers at him from beneath the brim of her, well...his umbrella, "It's just a feeling, Masashi. All I meant by it was that we should proceed with caution. Keep our minds open," she stood and stumped out another finished cigarette, "This just seems...different."

As she groped for her steadily depleting packet of cigarettes, Takeda's mouth turned down, "You shouldn't smoke so much, Nao."

The white cylinder bobbed as she mumbled around it, "Shut up and give me your lighter."

"And if I don't?"

Her pale eyes bore into his own like awls, "I'll castrate you."

After a moment's consideration, Takeda shrugged, "Fair enough."

He gave her the lighter.

"Excuse me! Excuse me!" A police officer who had just arrived on the scene ducked beneath the neon lines and was accosting them as he stomped over. Round glasses flashed on his large, hooked nose and his graying hair was slicked down to his head from the rain, "Who the hell are you two and why are you on my site?"

With a low snarling mutter, Nao turned her back on him and allowed Takeda to handle the belligerent policeman. She was never very good with these sorts of things; people always tended to rub her the wrong way and she didn't care to soften her razor-sharp tongue in response. The result was generally sharp words and, on some occasions, violence. If the latter was achieved, the situation became very messy very quickly. More than once, Midori had put Nao on probation and, as further punishment, made her review old case-files and tapes in the archives, which were strictly non-smoking.

Plastering a civil smile on his face, Takeda hailed the newcomer, "Good Morning, sir. Is there a problem?"

Jowls sagging on the man's wide face quivered and splotches of red started to appear on his cheeks, "I'll tell you what the problem is: unauthorized individuals strolling around my site like they own the damn place!"

"Ah, but you see," Takeda swiftly withdrew identification and flipped it open, "We have authorization."

The man's pale blue eyes narrowed at the ID upon which flecks of rain were beginning to accumulate, blurring Takeda's glossy photo and the faint official seal. The seal itself was an oddity: a blue and silver maiden with a drawn bow, stalking a winged hag upon a cross-roads during the encroaching dawn, all wreathed not in laurels but Cyprus branches. (4).

"Cynthian Division?" he asked, bushy eyebrows drawn down, "I want to speak with your superiors."

"But of course," a white business card appeared between Takeda's fingers and he handed it to the policeman.

Pulling out a phone and dialing, the man spoke, "Hello, this is Chief Carrol, I-" A sharp voice could be heard emanating from the earpiece and he straightened, "S-Sir! …...Yes. Yes...I understand. Sir." Looking stunned and slightly awed, he ended the call with a beep of his cell. Clearing his throat he began, "Er...I apologise for my earlier bluntness. You are to be given full access to this investigation and I am to offer help in any form you wish."

"That won't be necessary," Nao's words were abrupt and stinging. She had just run out of cigarettes and tossed the crumpled empty packet to the street. This problem (the cigarettes, not the murder) needed to be rectified. Soon. Or heads would roll. "Masashi, have the squints take the body to Sagisawa and meet me in the car. We're going to the drug-store."

"I was hoping we could go to lunch first. I'm starving."

"After."

"But-"

"After!" she barked and stomped off towards her car, glinting sleek and black in the rain, her sock squelching with every step, cursing to herself in French.

"Good evening, Countess."

Shizuru nodded politely in return to the greeting Midori had given her as she entered the room. An automatic steel door slid shut behind her and crimson eyes watched it do so, appraising, "I really do admire the technological advances that have been made while I was away. It is quite..." she thought for a moment, "Handy. That is the proper expression, yes?"

Midori forced herself to smile, "Yes. I'm glad to see that you've become so familiar with English."

At this, Shizuru's mouth turned down slightly in disgust, "It is a most barbaric tongue. Though its expressions at times can be quaint." She let out a small chuckle, "Such as, 'to wear one's heart on one's sleeve'. Your Shakespeare was very witty. A pity I missed him." (5).

Somehow, the fact that she could have, indeed, very easily rubbed elbows with one of the most influential authors of the English language only seemed to enhance her inhumanity that much more. Midori shifted, but hid her discomfort by gesturing to a chair and invited Shizuru to sit. She, herself, sat at the head of a long glass conference table. In the centre was etched the Artemisian Seal and likewise a large navy-blue flag with the same seal stitched into it hung on the wall behind her, its thick material making it curve and curl in arched drapery, distorting the figures upon it so that it seemed the young huntress instead bore the head of a wretched hag, neck twisted as if broken, looking at the overshadowing Cyprus trees behind her in shrieking flight.

The room was very modern with its steel and glass accoutrements making it glint from every corner. As Shizuru glided over to the offered chair and sat, she thought that it was all so distant and harsh in appearance. Those of flesh and blood looked so out of place in this metallic plane. Where were the warm tapestries? The grainy stone walls and floors opulently carved? Indeed, despite her supernatural nature, Shizuru herself seemed the most natural and organic thing in the entire room. What with her rich red dress and luminous flaxen hair, movements fluid as Simois before being clogged with the refuse of the lion-hearted son of Peleus. The contrast only further enhanced her sensuality.

As she moved further into the room, her nine guards trotted in after her and stood around the table, alert.

"Really, Artemis," Shizuru looked over her shoulder at the nine guards lining the room, "Is this necessary?"

"Simply a precaution," Midori smiled.

"A precaution that can not allow me to bathe in peace?"

Midori frowned, "They followed you into the bathroom? That was not in their orders."

Shizuru sniffed, "Perhaps not, but the optical devices strategically placed around my quarters have not escaped my attention."

The Cynthian Leader didn't even have the grace to look chagrined, "Ah. So you've noticed the cameras." She shot a glare at Mai, standing at her side, who shifted uncomfortably and determinedly did not meet her gaze. Apparently, Mai had not hidden them well enough.

"They are difficult to miss," Shizuru replied dryly.

"You'll have to forgive me," she showed a strained smile in a kind of endeavor to show amicability, "Old habits die hard."

Seeing the tension in the other woman, Shizuru could not help but chortle inwardly. My, my! But she could have fun with this! "Of course. I understand." She opened her arms in a regal gesture and said, "Shall we begin?"

Midori nodded sharply, arms crossing defensively beneath her breasts, "Yes. Mai?"

Mai pressed a button on a wafer-thin black remote in her hands. The lights dimmed and the centre of the glass table slowly parted. Rising from it was a screen that flashed to life, revealing a map of Europe.

"These are the Three Kingdoms," Midori began. Thick black lines ran across the map, and the spaces between shaded into different colours. Blue covered Spain, France, Belgium, the Netherlands, England, Scotland, Wales, Ireland, Iceland, Norway, Sweden and even bled into Finland. Green spread across Portugal, Italy, the line ran jagged through Germany and Switzerland, clashing with blue borders but became smooth once more beneath Hungary and Romania, effectively taking over the Balkans and a large chunk of Western Turkey and North Africa, including Egypt, strands of Libya, Tunisia and Morocco. The rest was Red, extending as far as Murmansk in the North and stopping at the Caspian Sea and the Ural mountains to the East.

"Blue is Árpádok. Green Medveczky and Red Rákóczi. Each of the Elders live in their own capital, issuing orders from the main cities of their Kingdoms. Kanzaki in Budapest. Graceburt in Rome. And Tate conveniently in London." As she spoke, each of the cities lit up, creating an oblique triangle between the three.

Here, Shizuru spoke, engrossed in the glowing screen, "I can not imagine the barracks being in the cities. There are too many people."

"I was getting to that," Midori gestured to Mai and more dots appeared on the screen, nearly four of them in each Kingdom, "These mark the barracks. As you can see, they are situated in rural areas so as not to attract attention and on top of that they are underground. Sunlight," she added, glancing at Shizuru to gauge her reaction, "is no friend of your kind."

Shizuru's expression remained impassive, giving away nothing, "So I've noticed."

Clearing her throat, Midori continued, a bit disgruntled that Viola had made no indication of her thoughts. Not that she had really expected her to be an easy person to read. Person being a relative term, "As of now, however, the barracks aren't our concern."

Mai pressed another button and the map zoomed into London, giving an aerial view of Parliament, "This is."

Crossing her legs beneath the table so that the folds of her dress bunched elegantly around her calves, Shizuru spoke, "Tate's lair, I presume?" Her emphasis on the word 'lair' implied sarcasm, which did not go unnoticed by either Midori or Mai.

"The years have had no effect on your mind, I see." Was Midori's equally as facetious retort.

"Astonishing, I'm sure."

Midori knew she shouldn't laugh, shouldn't enjoy her banter with the Creature of Ecsed, but a low chuckle escaped in spite of herself, "In any case," she moved on, "I'll keep this as brief as possible for now. Simply said, we infiltrate the Court with you, dethrone Tate and instate you. The Aristocracy should be willing to follow you without much trouble and with us at your side, well..."

"Hmm...Yes..." Shizuru murmured, tapping her lower lip thoughtfully with one finger, "It would seem as though I had subdued you. Their long time enemy," she mused with a smile, eyeing Midori askance, "brought to heel by the infamous Blood Countess." She watched as the Cynthian leader's brow twitched with every word she said, "You have judged my kind well. If nothing else, they respect a display of power. Bold of you. Very bold."

Mai was biting the inside of her cheek to keep from retorting sharply and Mai's face was purpling with anger, "I...suppose you could think of it that way..." Midori said slowly, biting off the words as if not believing what she was saying.

"But the real question would be: To what end?" That golden head tilted as she observed their reactions with increasing delight, "You would give me control of an established Kingdom with a Court and an army at my disposal? Why?"

Breathing deeply to steady herself, Midori replied, "I would have you rule all of the Kingdoms."

At this, Shizuru's eyebrows threatened to vanish into her hairline and her amusement evaporated like ethanol in the sun. She sat back in her chair, scarlet eyes glowing faintly through the shadows, "I must confess myself surprised, Artemis. Me? Returned to absolute power? Isn't that the situation you want least?"

"I have it on good authority that you will cooperate," she said enigmatically, meeting Shizuru's gaze without flinching, "Besides," she continued, "Isn't that what you want? Order in the world once more? A recovery of your kind as the elite few?" Midori leaned forward, elbow upon the table, the light from the screen illuminating her face until it shone, "The Earth is not meant to accommodate so many of you, and you know it."

Silence.

The two endured a staring match for a few moments. The air between them seemed to physically thicken. A flickering from the screen made shadows dance throughout the room, alighting upon the flag in the background until it seemed that little ghostly shades capered among the morbid scene to the whirring hum of electronics like Bacchae to the chanting drone of their frenzied god.

"I shall think upon it."

As Shizuru stood, Mai let out an audible breath of air. Pressing the remote, the lights burst to life once more, flooding the place with an artificial glow and washing out the occupants so that they resembled the paling shades of Acheron swamping towards bloody slaughter.

"If you will please excuse me," nodding that aureate head, Shizuru turned to leave.

Before she could go, though, Mai queried, "I don't mean to be rude, but where are you going to?"

She paused at the door, which had already hissed open, and a slow, dangerous smile spread across her features, "Why, to find Natsuki, of course." And with that, she swept from the room, her ubiquitous guards following close behind.

All was silent until Shizuru had fully departed and, feeling safe to speak her mind at last, Mai stated, "I don't like how she's always after Natsuki."

Midori sank into her chair with a sigh, "What would you have me do? Say no and risk being dismembered?"

"Why do we tolerate her at all?" Mai's hand stroked the barrel of her rifle unconsciously, her eyes still were locked on the closed door Shizuru had exited moments ago, "Why is she still alive?" Midori did not answer and Mai's temper, her want as a soldier to protect her men when she knew they were in imminent danger, got the best of her. At least, that's what she told herself it was, "She's the beginning, the source of it all! All our troubles for all these years! If we kill her, who knows what could happen!" Her hand suddenly clenched from her vehemence, and a sort of fanaticism could be seen lingering about her, shining through the normal composure gained from years of training, "It could be the end of vampires!"

Eyes flashing, Midori growled, head leaning upon her arm propped up on the chair, "Yes. Who knows what could happen. We could succeed and end it all, or we could fail and suffer the eternal wrath of the most powerful, supernatural creature this world has ever known. So go, if you like," she waved the District Officer away, pointing to the door, "Risk killing us all because of your haste, your thirst for vengeance."

At this, Mai froze. Her conviction began to falter, "I...That's not-"

"Shizuru created Kanzaki," Midori snapped, "but Shizuru is not Kanzaki. You're always so hasty! Don't be so quick to leap for your gun for your own retribution when it's everyone who will pay the price for your foolish actions!" Seeing the pained and crestfallen expression on Mai's face, knowing that she was reliving the most terrifying experiences of her life as soon as Kanzaki's name was mentioned, Midori's face softened. Leaning back with a sigh, chair creaking, she added with less severity, "We've all lost something, Mai. Don't forget that. It's the only thing that keeps us here, together, working against them."

"I know," came the whispered reply. Mai drew in a shaken breath, running a hand through her bright, flame-coloured hair, "I know..."
Midori allowed her officer time to recover from the ravages of memory for but a moment before asking, commanding and inquisitive once more, "Tell me about her."

Frowning, Mai asked, "Who? Natsuki?"

"Obviously," was the dry retort.

"Hmm..." she leaned upon the table, lifting up one leg while leaving the other supporting half her weight upon the ground. The plates of her armour scrapped against one another but did not chafe due to the thick synthetic material clinging to her entire body like an extra skin, "She's...cold."

"Cold?" Midori planted her feet upon the table as was her habit.

"Mmm," she made an affirmative noise, "I've known her for nearly two years now, and she's only just started feeling comfortable enough to joke around with me." With a grunted laugh, she admitted, "Hell, I've only seen her smile once or twice."

"She seemed to smile just fine if the tapes of her interactions with you in Viola's room are any indication."

Mai shook her head, eyes fixed on the wall as though looking past them at a rare image, "No. I mean really smile..."

"Hmmph." Midori searched her pockets and pulled out a lollipop. The woman seemed to have an endless supply of hard candies stashed away on her person. Peeling back the red and white wrapper, she said, "So she takes a while to warm up. Good to know." She stuck the round sugary end into her mouth and crossed her arms over her head, rolling the sweet in her mouth contentedly, "What about her love life?"

Mai snorted, "What love life?"

"Do you know her sexual preferences? Men? Women?"

Mai laughed, propping herself on the table with one hand and shifting her rifle around her shoulder to do so more comfortably, "What? Women? God, no! I mean..."

"But you can't say for sure?"

The Officer hesitated, "Well...No. I can't."

"And you don't know her type?"

Shaking her head, confused, and frowning with a small if rather uncomfortable smile, Mai asked, "Why does that even matter?"

With a moist sucking noise, Midori retracted the lollipop and used it to point at the door, "Because, in case you haven't noticed, Viola has taken an interest in her."

"Yea. As food. Not as a..." she waved her free hand vaguely, searching for an amorphous term, "Partner." She finally settled on the ambiguous tag.

Mai caught Midori's look that said, Don't be thick, "Oh, come on! There's no way!"

Shrugging, the Cynthian leader stuck the treat back in her mouth, "If you say so." Her expression, however, was far from admitting defeat on the matter.

Silence fell between them as Mai's mind stirred, the thought of a temptress Viola seducing the cool, proud Natsuki steadily seeming more and more plausible. She could just see it happening. Viola had all the time in the world and surely anyone would crack if exposed to that withering attention for an extended period of time, even Natsuki.

"Shit..." Growling the curse, Mai leaped to her feet and stormed after Viola. Only a fraction of probability may have been present, but she'd be damned if she let her friend fall to the wiles of that demon without a fight.

The automatic door slid shut behind the officer and Midori sighed resignedly around her lollipop, still in her relaxed pose, expression almost bored, "Like I said. Hasty."

(1) glaucopous: This is an English derivative of the Greek 'glaukopis' meaning "grey-eyed" or "doe-eyed". It was a popular epithet for Athena along with 'Parthenos' and 'Nike', etc.

(2) Reims...crowning glory: Haha! Sorry. I just had to put this one in there. Reims was the Cathedral where French monarchs were once crowned. Hence the awful pun.

(3) Fils de pute: French. Lit: "Son of a whore."

(4) The Artemisian Seal: I put a bit of thought into this. The maiden is, of course, Artemis. She and Hecate are often associated with crossroads and magic and death. Specifically with Artemis, the death of young virgin girls. (If we can all recall when Agamemnon sacrificed his daughter, Iphigenia, so that his fleet could sail for Ilium, which god did he sacrifice her to? That's right. Artemis). This is an aspect of her most people don't know about. She had some rather unsavoury qualities and myths about her generated by the many cults surrounding her, most notably the "Taurian Artemis," which involved many mystical and orgiastic aspects as well as some connected to human sacrifice. There were, of course, many different facets and personas of this goddess such as the Eleusinian Artemis, Brauronian Artemis, Britomartis, Dictynna, and Eileithyia. If you wish to know more about her, check out this site. It's really quite good and, if any of you so wish, can, in fact, be used as a reference for initial research at the collegiate level. www. theoi. com However, I would recommend as a more established source the Oxford Classical Dictionary (or OCD as we classicists fondly refer to it), or the latest edition of the book on classical mythology by Morford and Lenardon. (Oh! And FUN FACT: The Temple of Artemis at Ephesus is the largest recorded temple in the ancient world. Seriously. This thing was huge. Imagine a football field made of marble columns. Pliny tells us that it's dimension were 425x225x60 ft. length. width. height. The Parthenon, which you can still see in Athens on the Akropolis, is only 230x100x45 ft.)

Ahem. (clears throat). As I was saying. The Cyprus was the plant associated with Artemis. It was also one of the plants associated with funerals in the ancient world. Hell, it still is. Go to any graveyard in the Western world and I bet you'll find Cyprus trees growing all over the place. For real. Check that out next time you're at one, or even if you're just passing by. Classics lives on! FOR THE GLORY OF ROME!

(5): To wear one's heart upon one's sleeve: from Othello. Said by Iago.

Ok. Lecture over. Class dismissed.