"-Anyway, I should get going." Ciel said, straightening his tie. "The sun has set already. You don't have to get my coat for me."

"I'll do whatever I damn well please." Jim replied, stepping behind the Earl with the wool garment in hand. He opened it up, helping slide the sleeves over Ciel's raised arms before dropping it in place on his shoulders. "Are you absolutely sure that this is going to work?"

"No, but I have a strong hunch." the Earl said, holding up a finger. "You may not get immediate results, but I'm confident I can get things back on track, at least. I do have a way with people, after all."

"That's what I'm afraid of…"

"It was a joke. I understand the situation and that I am partially to blame." Turning around, the Earl faced his spouse again. "I was being funny."

"Sure, dear." smirked the menace before placing a light kiss against the other man's lips. "Now go knock her dead."

"Isn't she undead?"

"I don't know where sorcerer-vampire hybrids fall on Revy's spectrum of things that are dead but also alive. I'm not an expert in that field. Anyway, point is: Good luck, Pooch. Love you!"

"I love you, too." chuckled the Watchdog, separating from his spouse while making his way to the front door. He looked back at the blonde, still wearing his oversized cardigan and house slippers while seeing Ciel off. "I'll be be back in a few hours, Darling. You don't need to stay up for me."

"You know I can't do that." Jim shook with a smile. "Come back in one piece, alright?"

"I will. I don't really plan on things getting violent in the first place."

"Please don't say that out loud…"

"Knock on wood." Tapping his knuckles on the door frame as he walked through it, Ciel stepped out into the cold, night air. He could still feel Jim's eyes on him as the door closed behind him, but he wasn't quite sure how to soothe the blonde's worries.

It was the closest thing to a "mission" that Ciel had been on since his forced hiatus, but he was confident about this. It wasn't even that he had any solid proof that this would go his way—he just had a good feeling about it. It was unlike him to go by feeling, but following it just seemed like the thing to do.

He descended the steps, making his way toward the car waiting at the bottom and the rather serious-looking woman that waited with it. "Good evening, Lord Phantomhive!" Claire greeted with a salute. The conviction and enthusiasm with which she spoke was quite something, Ciel noted. Always was. It made him feel like a bit of a slacker whenever he was in her presence; not that he ever felt guilty for it.

"Good evening, Claire." he greeted in response while she opened the door for him. "Sorry to call you out here twice in the same week."

"It's alright, my lord. I don't mind. Work is work, after all."

"Still," he continued, climbing into the vehicle. "It seems like a terrible waste of your skills. This really isn't something one really needs to send the chieftain of the Whelan clan in for. Surely, one of your ladies would suffice?"

"Well, it's a good thought, but there are a few of the girls I really wouldn't trust this sort of thing with." Claire replied, making a face. "Little tact…"

"Oh, believe me, I understand that completely…"

As the two set off, night time cloaked the island in it's veil and sent the denizens of the day to scurry and hide; but also to dream. All the while, it's many creatures stirred awake—undeterred by how it swallowed everything beneath it into the endless black above. Night owls were invigorated, spurred on by the dark, while others saw this as their time to take to the streets and cause trouble. Gehenna was still busy at this time, with businesses still open for their nocturnal patrons while everyone else slept, but out in London, there was another house with a similar sort rousing to begin their "day." Some, however, never went to sleep at all.

Henrietta could feel the sun setting. She didn't need to open the lid to her casket. She knew. She knew that she was going to have to get up soon, too. It was a personal point of hers to wake up promptly and early as to set an example, but right then, she didn't want to leave the comfortable darkness of her box under any circumstances. It had been a problem in recent years, but at least in the past, she was able to get some sleep. Her tired eyes could see the lid of her box clearly as she stared upwards while laying on her back, just as she had all day. This was a problem that had only developed after meeting with that damn Phantomhive man as she helplessly envisioned him and his people coming in to destroy her and to take her reason for getting up in the evening away.

Finding the strength to open the lid to her casket was still difficult, but it had become easier lately. Pressing her hands against it, she lifted it and sat up, squinting as her eyes adjusted to the dim light of her room. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, avoiding putting her long nails too close, before yawning. Good work. Henrietta had gotten this far, but she needed to actually get out of the casket and go wash her face. It was a herculean effort, but she managed, getting dressed and pinning her brooch to her dress before fixing her hair and making her way over to the vanity to put on her makeup.

Then, she heard a thud coming from outside her door, causing her to jump. It was soon followed by the thunder of small footsteps accompanied by a fit of giggling.

"Sophie? Are you doing something that you're not supposed to be doing out there?" she asked, pausing for a reply before motioning to fix the lipstick she just smudged.

"No!" answered the voice of a child, clearly smiling and clearly not telling the truth.

"Yes!" answered the out of breath voice of the human servant currently chasing the girl, his own heavy footsteps pounding against the wooden floor.

"Don't go causing trouble for Mister Taylor, now, darling. You know how he tires easily."

Things went quiet, so she assumed that the moment had passed and continued getting ready. Setting down her last utensil for the last time, at last, she was finally presentable enough to face the day. The final touch that remained was in a small box that sat on the vanity. It was plain and unassuming enough, but contained one of her most important of treasures. Upon opening it, the bejeweled eyes of a small serpent stared back at her from it's place in the box, coiling around the air. It was an unusual design for an artifact such as this one. She had never seen another sorcerer with this animal-like design, but that just made it all the more unassuming, especially since that part of her lineage was not apparent in her appearance. Upon sliding her magic ring onto her finger, she was ready for the evening and not a moment too soon.

In the corner of her room, a light flickered on. Her eye was immediately drawn to a black candle that sat there as it flickered to life and danced urgently, rousing her to her feet. She stalked closer, watching how it danced before raising a hand to wave the smoke closer toward her face. Breathing deeply, her brow furrowed before looking back toward the door.

"Sophia?" she called out, pinching the wick and snuffing out the flame with her fingertips. "Mister Taylor?"

Nothing. There was no reply. There was only the thumping of her shoes pounding against the floor as she crossed over tot he other side of the room and ripped the door open. Someone was in the house. From what she gathered, there were two presences, but one was particularly troublesome. There was something inherently sinister in the flame—something powerful, yet at the same time, familiar. Her footsteps became muffled as they struck carpet on the stairs. She was descending so quickly that one misstep or mistake in her tempo would send her barreling down to the floor. Mister Taylor, looking especially distressed met her at the bottom, in a state of being torn between two minds. He kept looking back toward the lounge, then toward Henrietta, and then back again before finally settling on Henrietta for one final time before she nearly mowed him down.

"My lady, I'm sorry, I-" he let out, side-stepping her.

"Mister Taylor, my pipe."

"R-right away, miss!"

Rounding the corner, she appeared in the only lit doorway in the house. Her muscles were tense, adrenaline pushed her forward, and her ring sparked at her side as she poised herself to destroy whoever it was in that room. She heard a small giggle coming from inside and once her eyes registered the scene before her, it was like the wind had been completely taken out of her sails. Her expression, which had been one of unbridled fury, had fallen and was replaced with one of both surprise and immense confusion. She arched an eyebrow as she saw her daughter sitting in the lap of another woman, pinching and pulling the intruder's cheeks.

Henrietta recognised her as the soldier that Sir Phantomhive had brought along with him when he met with her. The golden hair and eyepatch were very distinct, after all. Much to her surprise, Sophia didn't seem afraid of her in the slightest. In fact, it seemed like the soldier might be the one in trouble.

"Your teeth aren't as sharp as my mum's." observed the little girl, examining the faoladh's pointed canines. "They're still sharp, but not as sharp."

"That's because I'm not a vampire." Claire slurred, trying not to let spit dribble from her lips as she was poked and prodded. "I'm a faoladh. My teeth will get sharper on the full moon."

"A fay-lad? What's that?"

"Faoladh. It's a kind of werewolf."

"You talk funny."

"I think I sound normal. You sound pretty funny to me!"

With that, the man sitting next to her chuckled. "I didn't know you were so good with children, Claire." Henrietta didn't recognise the voice, nor did she recognise him, as his back was to her, but she could still register the back of that bluenette head and the eyepatch string that was tied behind it.

"I'm not, really. I'm hardly ever around them." the soldier replied, finally managing to pry the curious girl's hands off her face. "We've only had a few wains in the family since joining HELLSING, and I only ever see them if the mum wants me to give them a name."

"Well, that's understandable, I suppose. You're their leader, so it's not uncommon. I remember my father used to be asked to name children in the village near the estate from time to time."

"I guess, but I hadn't really expected it when I became the chief!"

"It's all part of the job, I suppose!"

He laughed. He actually laughed. Henrietta could hardly believe it. Regardless, the fact that he was even here in the first place was unacceptable. She had thrown them out once already and had certainly not invited them back. How dare they? How dare they barge into her home, defiling it with their presence and forcing her to deal with their intrusion first thing upon her waking? How dare they sit there chatting as if they hadn't shown her such disrespect? Worse! They had her daughter! A mortal, human, child, the girl was fragile and didn't seem to know the danger she was in, but Henrietta knew. She knew that for Sophia to be in the hands of a HELLSING agent, it certainly could not be good.

"Sophia!" Van Volkinburg called out, capturing the attention of both the little girl and the soldier. Furrowing her brow, her tone came out assertive, but not nasty. It was the sort of commanding tone of a parent that was difficult to defy. "Come here right now! Don't play with that!"

"'That?'" Claire echoed in a quiet voice, despite allowing the child to slip out of her grasp with no resistance on her part whatsoever.

The child slid off of Claire's lap with both of her bare feet landing on the floor with a thud, before making her way toward the vampiress. There was doubt in each step—not in that she felt that Henrietta was wrong, but in that she wasn't entirely certain as to what she had done wrong. Once she was at her mother's side, however, she was reassured with a gentle hand on her head.

"You aren't in trouble, dear. Mummy needs to talk with the grown ups, alright?" Henrietta quietly explained. "Come now, why don't you go wash up for breakfast? Quick sticks."

"Okay…" Sophia replied, glancing back at the others one last time before running off and doing as she was told, leaving the three adults alone.

A tense silence hung in the air as Van Volkinburg stared at the man's back, waiting for him to say something. Claire looked back and forth between them, hoping her superior would give her some instruction, but none came. Thus, it was Henrietta who disturbed the quiet.

"You have a lot of nerve coming back here." she scolded. "Barging into my home invited and involving my daughter in your affairs…"

Finally, the Earl turned around to face her and what she saw was surprising. He didn't scowl and he didn't take offense. He merely looked—his expression noticeably different. It was completely calm. His muscles were relaxed and his eye in particular caught Henrietta's interest. The deep blue colour was vibrant and clear. Gone was the dullness it once held and gone was the old, haggard, and worn-down beast in the form of a boy it once belonged to. Ciel Phantomhive had aged, yes, taking on the form of a rather dashing young man, but it was deeper than that. The venom that flowed freely through his veins had weakened and he stood before her as a full, flesh-and-blood person instead of the shadow she once knew. Still, in spite of seeing the change, it was not nearly enough to allow her own anger to subside. Instead, she only grew more suspicious, narrowing her eyes at the unknown being before her.

"My apologies, Miss Van Volkinburg. It wasn't my intention to intrude, but I doubted-given our history-that you would have been receptive to a formal request to meet."

"Your doubts would have yielded correct." she declared, sticking her nose up in the air and peering down at him. "I have already told the other one that I have no intention to cooperate and form an alliance with HELLSING."

"You mean my husband?"

"Indeed."

"I'm already aware. He told me right after coming home that night."

"Then what, pray tell, are you here for?" The sound of a throat clearing beside the one drew her attention for just a moment. She broke away from the Earl for just a moment to see her servant at her side, holding her cigarette holder in his hands. With a long-nailed hand, she took it from him, placing one end in her mouth before flicking her ring with her thumb and lighting the other with it. Taking a deep breath, she let out a thick cloud of smoke before finally crossing through the doorway and entering the room.

"Not for official HELLSING business, I assure you."

"Ha! That's rubbish and you know it. I say, if you're going to intrude, you might as well come up with a better lie than that."

"It's a half-truth, I suppose."

"Half a truth is still half a lie."

"Very well, then. I can't argue with you there." Ciel answered, holding up his hands so she could see them. "I admit, I would ideally like to help my spouse secure an alliance with you if I can, but ultimately, I'm just here to talk. I'm not about to trample over his work."

"How kind." she said. Her voice was flat and unimpressed. Stopping short of him, she stood within grabbing distance of the man, still looking down on him despite his newfound height. Much to her displeasure, he didn't wince or wrinkle his nose when she punctuated her sentence by blowing smoke in his face. "So what non-HELLSING business do you have here? I'm particularly curious as I have nothing to give you."

"It isn't about what you can give me. Rather, it's about what I owe you."

"Oh? I didn't know the Watchdog owed me a debt. Had I known, I might have taken advantage of it sooner. What, pray tell, am I owed, Phantomhive? Apart from an apology."

"Actually, it's precisely that."

"What?" Henrietta blinked, staring down at him, but there was no trace of humour on the Watchdog's face.

"An apology. I owe you an apology from the last time we met, Miss Van Volkinburg." Ciel stoicly replied. "I was in a bad place at the time but that is no excuse for my boorish behaviour. I intentionally said those things with the intention on inflicting the most amount of harm I could on you and I did it for petty reasons. I, Earl Ciel Phantomhive, was in the wrong. I'm sorry, Miss Van Volkinburg."

Upon concluding, he waited patiently for the woman's reply. At last, his expression finally shifted once it became apparent she was not going to be forthcoming with a response. While he was somewhat confident at the start, as time went on, he suddenly felt rather silly. Yet, despite his unease, he held firm, waiting for her to make the first move.

She responded by throwing back her head and howling with laughter.

Brandishing her fangs, her shoulders shook as the sound came from deep within her chest; only further solidifying Ciel's unease. He furrowed his brow, but didn't appear at all cross. Rather, his embarrassment only spurred her on as she walked past him and sat down in one of the nearby chairs.

"I say, Lord Phantomhive, you really are a card!" she cackled in earnest. "Honestly, I don't even know how to reply! It's been so long, I'm not even certain how tightly I held on to the memory."

"Yes, well, it's the morally correct thing to do…" the man stated, sitting down as doing so only spurred on another round of laughter.

"'Morally correct!' Good lord, that man of yours must have really done a number on you to make you spout off such ideas!"

"It's been thirty years! Surely it's possible for someone to change during that time?"

At last, she let out a sigh, having composed herself slightly. A few giggles did follow, however. "Maybe, but you and I both know just how notoriously stubborn us immortals can be. With all the time in the world on our hands, there's seldom any urgency for us to change our ways. It seems as though the baronet was a good motivator for you, though?"

"Indeed, he is." Ciel replied with a sigh of his own, only his was out of relief that the woman had finally stopped laughing at him. "He doesn't let me get away with much. I don't really mind, though. I wanted to improve. After all, if I'm going to go through the trouble of having a husband, I might as well be a good spouse."

"You have absolutely no shame, have you? I say, it's rather impressive how candidly you're able to talk about it, given your previous transgender transgression."

"Once again, I apologise... I can't say I fully understand it, but I don't really think I need to. It isn't my life, after all. All I understand is that this is how you need to live your life and that needs respecting, just as I wish to live my life with Jim."

"Oh, so you only realise that now after living it yourself?"

"Sometimes, that's what it takes to get through to people, but no, not really. I met other transgender people and just generally calmed down in life, I believe. If anything, by the time I realised I had feelings for Jim, I was only partially concerned with what sex he is—mostly in terms of practicality. I wasn't really sure what a relationship with a man was supposed to look like, after all. Then there's the masculine ego and well—alright, perhaps it was a bit messier than I led on, actually…"

"Bit of a shock, was it?"

"Surprisingly, no! I'm pretty certain I had an inkling long before I even met you. I probably knew you were actually right, but the environment surrounding that meeting was so hostile, though…"

"AIDs, and all that, wasn't it? Indeed, those were hard times. It seems like our sort was always in the news for some godawful reason—making us out to be monsters… I'm not surprised you internalised that."

"It doesn't make it right, though. In fact, I think it only makes it worse. I projected that onto you and twisted you into something awful. I recognised myself in you, I believe, and then used you as a scapegoat to reject that part of me. I was an idiot…" With a sigh, the man shook his head. "It's all terribly embarrassing, really..."

"How self observant… You ought to be a therapist."

"I'm seeing one, actually."

"What?! Since when?!" gawked the woman, gripping the arms of her chair while leaning forward. "I demand the particulars!"

"Really recently, actually. I only started about a month ago."

Scoffing, the woman sat back in her chair, taking another puff of her cigarette. "I can't believe it…"

"What about you?" Ciel questioned.

"What about me?"

"I don't know… Have you ever considered it?"

"Seeing at therapist?"

"Just curious."

"Not really. I can't imagine many being able to deal with immortals. Most are human, after all. If you went in to a human therapist and started going on about your eternal life, you'd get locked up, wouldn't you?"

"Fair enough."

"Honestly… How can you-? Good lord, you've really changed, haven't you? Really changed… Are you certain you're really Lord Phantomhive?"

"Sometimes, no, I'm not. I was the way that I was for so long, that the concept of getting better sometimes felt like I was becoming 'someone else.'"

"Hm…" hummed Henrietta. "Well… I can't say that I can't relate…" She was quiet and he was quiet as both waited for the other to carry on the conversation. It seemed to have run its course, but both knew better. Both knew that there were things simply not being said but was waiting for the other to be bold enough to say it first.

"Miss Van Volkinburg," Ciel began, "Forgive me if I am overstepping, but… You seem… Well, you seem a bit like you're at a crossroads, yourself."

"How so?"

"Well, you're certainly not the sort to allow your home to get in such a state." He paused. "That—that came out a lot more rude than I meant it to… What I mean is that you take pride in the appearance of your house. I can see where you have tried to repair things. You've been attacked, haven't you?"

Scoffing, the woman shook her head. "My, my… To be receiving pity from you of all people… I really have fallen, haven't I? The years have not been kind on this house. Many died in the Millennium incident and more recent events have caused rifts to form. People just don't trust my judgment anymore, so many ran off to join other covens. Now that I'm weak, those same covens wish to take claim over my territory, it seems. It's pitiful, isn't it? You can go ahead and laugh, you know. It's quite funny."

Crossing one leg over his opposite knee, Ciel folded his hands in his lap and looked down. After a moment of reflection, he shook his head. "I don't think that's very funny. Having everything you built being taken from you… That's no laughing matter at all, really." he said. Then, with another pause, he finally looked up at her again. "Those rifts and your 'judgment'… It wouldn't have to do with the girl, would it?"

"If you intend to spin this back around to that, then so help me-"

"No, it's not about HELLSING or the alliance." Ciel continued holding up a hand to stop her. "I know for a fact that you aren't the sort to keep humans around except for food and servants—at least, not before. You never would have kept a human child around, yet you were so protective of her once you saw her with Claire, here. You were worried about her safety like a proper mother. Indeed, you certainly have changed, yourself."

"How observant, but I'm afraid I'm still not buying that this line of inquiry has nothing to do with HELLSING."

"Oh, it does. It's just not an official HELLSING inquiry."

"You're talking in circles…"

"What I'm trying to say is that I empathise with your situation, Miss Van Volkinburg. You saw how I was before I reunited with Jim. I'm not going to bore you with an overly-lengthy sob story—I was aimless. I was suffering the sickness of immortality without purpose; Spiritually dead, but unfortunately alive. In fact, the entire purpose of reuniting with him was for him to either give me the thrill of thrills, or to put an end to that suffering. Given our record or wins-to-losses, I was personally banking on the latter." With a shrug, the man threw up his arms. "Life happened, though. He grew on me and now here I am: reinvigorated with a new lease on life."

"And yet," continued the Earl, lowering his hands, "Once one gains something cherished, one inevitably becomes terrified of it's potential loss. I'm not going to pretend that I have always been the most wholesome of partners who always does things right. I'm also not going to pretend that I've never slipped back into my old ways in the event that Jim had been harmed—or even threatened. Miss Van Volkinburg, you love Sophia. You cherish her, but that also puts you on edge. It's a balancing act, isn't it? Trying to deal with both sides of oneself…"

"Well, I say… Can't I be a mum who has it all?" Henrietta questioned in jest, but although she had that same haughty smirk that she always wore, Ciel couldn't help but notice that her eyes didn't smirk with her. "I hear a lot of women struggle with that sort of thing these days. Juggling both work and being a parent is a lot of work for anyone, not just for folks on our side of the sunset. Perhaps you'll figure that out once you decide to become a father with that charming blond of yours."

"We've discussed it, but agreed that now is not the time." Ciel informed, but didn't let up. "I think you made a solid choice, coming to HELLSING to secure your daughter's safety, though. Perhaps that's my own bias as someone who has already made that choice showing, however."

"Indeed, I do believe you are also under HELLSING protection, yes?"

"I have been since setting foot on this island again in the forties. I used to only be in it for convenience and thought I might rid myself of them if they got on my nerves, but now that I have a family, that protection extends to them. I have to keep that in mind for future endeavours—especially since I also have some familial stake in the organisation."

"How nice… Unfortunately, us riff-raff can't afford such luxury. I can't imagine the rooks being alright with a vampire raising a human child, especially under these circumstances."

"What circumstances?" Ciel asked, but Henrietta only frowned. For the first time, he saw her cast her eyes downward—not because she was looking down on someone, for once, but because she clearly had something on her mind. "I cannot help you if I don't know the full story. Jim said that you found her and that she was being neglected. Is that true?"

"Yes, of course!" the woman let out with an indignant wave of her hand. "I wouldn't have kept her, otherwise! The poor thing was filthy, sickly, and half-starved when I found her. Lord knows how long she had been out…"

"Are you certain that she wasn't homeless?"

"Homeless children tend to have their homeless parents nearby at that age." Henrietta answered with yet another wave of her hand, speaking as though it were obvious. "She said that she left her parents at her house. Furthermore, she was in such a state that I don't think anyone had been looking after her for quite some time… Matted hair, no shoes, clothes wrong for the weather… The poor dear… I have no doubt that she would have caught her death of cold if I hadn't gotten to her when I did…"

It had been raining that night, beating heavily against the windshield of Henrietta's car as the wipers frantically struggled to keep the road visible. Her human servant struggled to see while driging in those conditions, but the woman was completely checked out in the backseat. She was idly fixing her lipstick in the dark, bored out of her mind after having watched some terrible play an acquaintance from another coven had recommended. She should have known better, really, as they were known to not have very good taste.

It was so difficult finding things that were interesting. Plays were boring, movies were boring, books were boring; everything seemed to have no life in them anymore and Henrietta, herself, was no exemption. All she wanted was to go home, so she insisted the man continue driving. She wasn't really certain as to what was so urgent that she needed to be there right then, however. There wasn't all that much to do but order people around to make more repairs to the building and stare into space. As for what she would do the next night or the next night after that? Who knows? Maybe someone somewhere was throwing a party or something? She surely couldn't throw one at her house in it's current state. Otherwise, she was going to have to find some other means of entertainment.

Just as she had grown comfortable in her blah, her body lurched forward, being caught by the strangling seatbelt as tires squealed. The lipstick in her hand was entirely ruined—as was her makeup—as she inadvertently smooshed it against her cheek cheek with it from the force. The man in the front seat braced himself, pushing against the steering wheel as the tires struggled for traction on the wet road in an effort to keep himself from flying forward. The brake pedal was down against the floor, yet they still slid for a ways before finally coming to a stop just shy of actually hitting the unknown disturbance in the road.

Henrietta, of course, did not see this and was instead immensely displeased. Unbuckling her seatbelt and flinging it behind her, she grabbed the headrest behind Mister Taylor and pulled herself toward him so that she was right in his ear.

"What on earth do you think you're doing?!" she bellowed, causing him to wince.

"Something ran out into the road!" replied Mister Taylor, pointing through the blurry screen. Following his gesture with her eyes, the woman squinted to see across the hood, only to spot something peeking over it.

"Christ." she groaned, picking her umbrella up out of the floor.

"Miss, it's raining. Your magic won't work!"

"I'm aware." the woman sighed, poising herself with the umbrella facing the door and one hand on the handle. "With any luck, it might kill me." she grumbled before stepping out into the rain.

Droplets of water beat against the fabric of the umbrella like a drum as she held it high above her head, walking closer to the mysterious newcomer. Stepping around the hood of the vehicle, she looked down. Her frown deepened at the sorry sight of the child standing in front of her vehicle.

The young girl's head just barely was visible from the cab as she was only slightly taller than the hood. Henrietta couldn't see her face as her long, clumped-together, hair was covering it; held down by the weight of the water. She stood hunched over on the rough, poorly-maintained with no shoes on, while Henrietta's heels kept her high above the water. The girl's feet, legs, and clothes were filthy—slathered in mud and god knows what else. The poor thing was shivering violently, holding herself for what little warmth she could spare herself as the thin T-shirt and shorts she was wearing stuck to her. Henrietta could actually hear the sound of the girl's teeth chattering over the sound of the rain.

"My word! You look like a drowned rat!" observed the vampiress with a noticeable scoff. "What on earth are you doing out here at this time of night? Isn't it past your bedtime?"

In a voice that was barely audible, the girl answered: "I was hungry, so I was going to go to the store."

"Store? What store? There's no stores around here."

"Oh…" That was it. Just "oh." No explanation, no retort, no fanfare.

"And where, pray tell, are your parents?"

"At home."

"Do they know that you've gone off to this so-called 'store?'"

"No."

"Don't you think that is important information for them to know?"

"No."

"Surely they're going to worry once they realise that you're missing, yes? Do you know they way back home?"

"No."

The audacity of this girl. She was giving the vampiress absolutely nothing to work with. Henrietta looked back at the cab, watching her servant shrug in response. Neither really knew what to do with the situation. The responsible thing to do would be to perhaps call the police on an abandoned child, but getting the attention of the authorities as people of their stature was not the wisest idea. It would be good for the girl, but not for them, and they had to protect themselves and their own first. Rules of the jungle and all that. Henrietta supposed that the girl would just have to fend for herself for a while longer until she either was helped by someone else, returned home, or perished, yet she knew the likelihood of two of those things were probably slim. People just don't help people like that—Miss Van Volkinburg herself was evidence of that—and the girl was clearly too young to know how to get back to where she was supposed to be, so that just left one option.

A glint appeared in Henrietta's eye. Right, if that was how it was going to be, then perhaps there was something she could do. The corners of her mouth twisted upwards into a pleasant smile and her entire demeanor softened. "I say, well you simply cannot be out here in this rain. You'll catch your death of cold! Why don't you come warm up in the car with me for a while?"

"Okay…" It surprised Henrietta just how easily the girl accepted that. Clearly, she hadn't had any discussion about talking to strangers. It only confirmed in the Van Volkinburg woman's mind that if she didn't take the child, someone else would.

Holding out her hand to the girl, she led her to the side of the vehicle, feeling like she was carrying ice in her hand. The girl's skin was colder than that of the vampiress—an impressive feat, really. She held on to Henrietta for dear life, squeezing as hard as her numb fingers could muster, which wasn't very. She was reluctant to let go, even as she climbed into the car, soon followed by the woman. Finally, Henrietta separated their hands in order to close her umbrella and shut the door behind her. The chattering of the girl's teeth grew louder now that the rain was slightly muffled, drawing the woman's attention.

The girl was far smaller than Henrietta realised. She was very thin with dark circles around her eyes. No wonder she couldn't hold any heat. "Mister Taylor, could you turn up the heat, please?" Miss Van Volkinburg requested. The man did it, of course, but he was a bit concerned with the way that things were going.

"Miss, what are you going to do with her?" he asked, twisting himself so that he could peer into the backseat. His boss, of course, smiled a sickly sweet smile as she gave her reply.

"Why, we're going to warm her up, of course!" she stated. "After that, I was thinking she could join us for dinner back at the house. She said she was hungry." Looking down at the girl, she continued. "Does that sound like an alright idea, little one?"

"Yes!" It was the first actually enthusiastic reply she was able to get from the girl. Satisfied with this, the vampiress gestured to her driver.

"You heard the young lady! Drive on, Mister Taylor." she ordered, sharing a knowing glance between herself and her associate. Despite seeming uncertain, the man did as he was told, taking them both home to the Van Volkinburg town house.

They crossed over into the entryway and the girl looked up, peeking through her hair at the beaten, yet somehow still grand abode she had found herself in. Everything was polished, despite a few gouges in the wood in some of the furniture and there was no trash on the floor or dust anywhere. Metal was shiny, the light was warm, and it was like she had been whisked away to some place magical.

"Taylor, give her one of your shirts to wear for the time being. I'll get you another one if anything happens to it." Henrietta ordered, sliding her furs off of her shoulders as she ascended the staircase. "After that, I want you to fix her something to eat. I've got to go fix my face."

"Yes ma'am, but… What should I do with her in the meantime?" he asked, giving her pause. She stopped halfway up the stairs before looking back at them.

"Sit her by the fire with some blankets and something warm to drink." she answered with a wave of her hand. "I don't know. Whatever it is one does to warm up a human. That sounds about right, yes?"

"But what about the others?"

"I'll deal with them." she sighed, turning her back to them again. "Now, quick sticks. Time is something the two of your can't afford."

"Of course… Uhm…" the man answered behind her before softening his tone to face the girl. "You should come with me, now, alright?"

Henrietta wasn't worried. Mister Taylor would take good care of her and the others wouldn't dare kill a human on her carpets. Either outcome, the girl wasn't to last much longer, anyway. She had merely been given an extension on life.

For Henrietta, she had nothing but time. No plans for the upcoming days, so she felt herself due for a little project of sorts. It didn't matter if it took days, weeks, or months—nor did it really matter that the reward was going to be rather small. She knew that from the start. A smile still graced her face when she entered the dining room and spotted the child wolfing down what was placed in front of her. Poor thing. She wasn't shivering at least, so there was hope for her yet. Henrietta was hoping that the colour would return to her skin soon. Once it did, the vampiress would have to make a decision on whether to extend the girl's being there again or if she had overstayed her welcome.

She watched the girl for a little while before finding an excuse to leave the room. As interesting as the whole situation was to her, it wasn't interesting enough for her to watch the girl like a hawk. Upon exiting the dining room, however, she was intercepted by a familiar face. Although he was once a rather scruffy-looking chap with disheveled hair and a dirty Canadian tuxedo, her vampiric associate cleaned up well since the 80's. His hair was still lengthy, but it was at least combed; held together in a ponytail. That said, his grey suit was still horribly wrinkled and the man seemed to have an unnatural aversion to neckties.

"Hey, boss…" he called out, capturing the woman's attention with a whisper. She turned her head and smiled at him, arching an eyebrow at the unusually severe expression he wore on his face.

"Yes, Genie-weenie?" the woman replied, still walking and not even trying to match his tone. "What is it?"

"What's with the kid?" he asked, walking with her. "You pick it up off the street or something?"

"Why, yes. How did you know?"

"Wait, seriously? But why? It's a human, isn't it? It's heartbeat's got all of us on edge…"

"Well, you see, Gene, I was getting a little bored, just hanging around the house all day, so I asked myself: 'What do other ladies of leisure do?' Why, many of them take care of plants or pets! A garden would be a lovely thing—I certainly can stand the sunlight—but it just didn't seem like it suited me. So I thought about another sort of 'farming:' why not livestock, instead?"

The man paused, blinking at her with raised eyebrows. "You're going to…" he trailed off before a wicked grin crept across his face. "That's cold, boss. Real cold. Still, she'll be hardly a mouthful, as tiny as she is."

"Ah, but you see, that isn't the point! Rather, I wonder if it will be more rewarding that way?"

"'Rewarding?'"

"Of course! Which do you prefer? I already know the answer, of course, but pretend for a moment that I don't—do you prefer sitting around, allowing for your meal to be handed to you, or do you prefer hunting it yourself?"

"Hunting, of course!" Gene scoffed with a smile. "It's more thrilling that way."

"Precisely! Certainly, hunting allows for one to better appreciate one's food precisely because blood is the currency of life. We eat life, so it's only proper that we take it ourselves, but what must it feel like to nurture it? Raise it yourself? That must be very interesting, indeed! Would it be more rewarding? Less? Or about the same? That is the line of inquiry that I want to test, you see. So, we're going to look after her for a bit—just until she's not all skin and bones and her cheeks turn rosy. Then, I'll get my answer."

A/N: I feel like the wait on this chapter is not worth the length, but I haven't just been ignoring this, I promise! I'm afraid I wrote myself into a bit of a corner, tbh. I had tweaked things while writing and it veered things off in a direction that I wasn't really prepared for, so I was constantly worrying about where I was going with this while writing it! Normally, I come up with what's going to happen way before I start the storyline so that I can nudge things in that direction as I go along, but this time, I fucked up, tbh.

This was meant to be a much smaller "mini-arc," if you will. It was supposed to start and end with this little drama with Van Volkinburg but then suddenly it became more involved and I had to come up with content that just wasn't there yet! So I took a few days off of writing to just kind of brainstorm what the fuck I'm on about, so hopefully, we'll be back on a more regular schedule soon.

Sorry about the wait! Now that you've read this chapter though, sadly, you now have to wait for the next one. Hopefully for a shorter amount of time.

Until the next chapter, my duckies~!