- IXXX -

The vast room of Marcus Corvinus's study was lit by a single candle only and so it took a while before Tanis's eyes got accustomed to the darkness. He patiently waited by the door, but when he was finally able to make out the contours of high shelves and cupboards full of papyri and the amount of parchment scrolls piled up on Marcus's desk, he couldn't hide his excitement and stepped further into the room. Eager to find out what kind of secret knowledge all those texts would harbour, he strode along the compartments, his fingers gently brushing the paper here and there.

"What an impressive library you have, Milord," he said, his voice almost trembling in awe.

"It was my father's, actually, but now that he's gone, I use it from time to time," Marcus answered in a rather indifferent tone.

Tanis approached Corvinus's desk, his gaze flickering over the scrolls just like the candle's light.

"May I?" he asked, gesturing towards the text nearest to Marcus's seat.

The original vampire only shrugged.

Tanis reverentially unfurled the parchment and a bright smile appeared on his features.

"Hippocrates...remarkable," he said before his slender fingers proceeded to the next scrolls. "And here we have Dioscorides and Galen of Pergamon. It seems like you are familiarising yourself with the great physicians."

Marcus furrowed his brows.

"I try." His upper lip twitched to reveal his fangs. "But it's all in Greek."

Tanis looked up from the desk and a witty sparkle lit up his eyes.

"I assume you aren't fluent in the ancient languages then," he asked, choosing his words carefully.

"Does that amuse you, monk?" Marcus snarled.

Tanis raised his hands from the desk in a defensive gesture.

"I meant no offence, Milord!" he tried to calm the Elder. "Quite the opposite, I would like to offer you my help. I could read those scripts and gather the information you're searching for. I could even translate whole texts for you."

Not fully convinced, Marcus raised a ginger eyebrow.

"You could?"

Tanis nodded, giving the vampire a genuine smile.

Marcus eventually believed him, for the monk didn't have a reason to lie about this matter.

"You seem to be a real scholar then. Good, translate them for me." He paused, then his azure gaze locked on Tanis's green. "But you won't do this for the fame, I assume."

The monk swallowed. Now, this was his chance to submit his request. He swiftly walked around the desk and bowed low to the vampire.

"Milord Marcus Corvinus, great Elder and first of the deathless people, progenitor and leader of all vampires," he praised him. "It would be most gracious of you if you could grant me the honour of becoming an immortal."

A smirk appeared on Marcus's bearded face. No-one had flattered him this way in decades, and after the humiliation of being imprisoned in his own quarters, words like these, even when spoken with a selfish intention, really were like a balm for his pride.

"You shall be given what you desire, Tanis," he said in an almost benign tone.

Two nights had passed since Marcus had turned Tanis; two nights during which the scholar had read and translated almost all the medical texts in the Corvinus library. Eager to find a hint to the cure for William, Marcus had snatched every piece of parchment from the desk even before the ink of Tanis's handwriting had dried. The original vampire's eyes had almost devoured every stroke of the elegant letters but in vain. The ancient physicians hadn't known more about werewolves than Marcus did.

Now that he had sent the scholar away, Corvinus leaned against a shelf, exhausted. Neither he, nor Tanis, nor Istvan knew where to find more knowledge about medicine. Their search was over. If only he could find his brother again. Capture him, bring him to the castle and study his blood, his anatomy. Maybe he would find something new then, something the ancient physicians hadn't known.

However, Marcus was captured himself, imprisoned in his rooms, guarded by Viktor's soldiers, while their lord was hunting William. Marcus didn't dare to think of the cruelties Viktor would visit upon the original werewolf if he caught him. He could only hope William would be faster than the vampires and escape them again and again, until they would give up and return to the castle.

In moments like these, he deeply regretted not having managed to win Amelia over to his side. If only he had been able to control his emotions back then in that cave! That fateful night when she had chosen to become Viktor's – his lover, his right-hand woman. Marcus bit down on his lip, focussing on a spot of ink on the desk.

Although she was almost as cold and arrogant as Viktor, and she shared the warlord's opinion on most things, Amelia was still more reasonable, more level-headed. Perhaps he should talk to her about William. Maybe, just maybe she would agree to help him capture his brother, when he again presented her with the benefits their people could achieve by studying the original werewolf.

Marcus pushed himself off the shelf and balled his hands into fists, then headed for the door. Yes, he would go to Amelia's quarters and try again to convince her, no matter what the cost, even if he had to kill all the guards on both his and her doorstep.